


Unforeseen Consequences

by sarahenany



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Noya Whump, Tanaka Ryuunosuke is a Good Friend, Whipping, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22101787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahenany/pseuds/sarahenany
Summary: Noya Whump. What-if for s1 e9.Corporal punishment is illegal in Japan, but there is no actual penalty for it, so the law has no teeth, and it gets practiced under the radar all the time. So, what if Noya's fight with Asahi in the corridor resulted in more serious consequences than just suspension? Chronological rewrite of the month's suspension up till Asahi's return to the team. Featuring guilty Asahi, awesome big bro Tanaka, inspiring first years Kageyama and Hinata, and Asanoya, because duh.
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu, Nishinoya Yuu & Tanaka Ryuunosuke
Comments: 23
Kudos: 172





	Unforeseen Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> My wonderful beta Thursday26 contributed pretty much everything volleyball-related that you see in here, the 'dirt planet' line, and a lot of rewrites, and I am forever grateful for their help. More than I can say, seriously.  
> Note: I am an anime fan. I ask manga readers to forgive any errors and omissions.

Yuu watches, breathing hard with rage and betrayal, as Asahi-san turns his back on him and _walks away._ Someone grabs his shoulder and he shrugs them off, hard, flinging away the offending hand, unable to handle being touched right now. The person goes staggering back and something crashes to the floor and shatters. It echoes what Yuu’s feeling right now. It feels like the whole world just broke and he can’t put it back together. The best fucking ace he’s ever known, the person who keeps him grounded, gone. Their partnership, shattered. All because of some _nothing_ reason and that damned self-blaming crap... Seething, he watches Asahi-san turn the corner and vanish from sight.

Damn. _Dammit._

Slowly, Yuu becomes aware of the shocked silence in the corridor. He turns to see the Vice-Principal fiddling with his toupee and spluttering, the shards of a ceramic vase on the floor. There’s nobody else in the corridor close enough… Oh shit, was the person Yuu elbowed the _Vice-Principal?_

Then Yuu’s blood runs cold. Wide-eyed, staring, just visible over the Vice-Principal’s shoulder, standing at the open door to his office, is Katashi-san, the Principal of Karasuno.

Just when he'd thought this day couldn’t _possibly_ get any worse.

* * *

“Assaulting a teacher and destroying school property,” Principal Katashi intones, shaking his head. Yuu stands before his desk, feeling the muscle in his jaw twitching. He _itches_ to say it wasn’t _assault,_ but that would be interpreted as talking back and he’s in enough trouble as it is. “Such a shame, Nishinoya.” He flips through a file. “Not a great student, barely passing. Distinguished yourself in club activities. And now this.” He closes the file. “No significant trouble in your first year, none so far in your second… and your first offense is _assaulting a teacher?”_ He looks up. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Yuu shakes his head. “I didn’t know it was the Vice-Principal! I felt someone touch me and I just _reacted…”_

The principal’s glare darkens. “So you lashed out physically without knowing who you were assaulting? What if it had been a much older man? What if it had been a woman?” He pauses. “What if you had broken a glass pane instead of a vase, injuring others? Broken glass can maim or even kill. Your violent tendencies endangered the safety of all those around you.”

Damn, it sounds bad when he puts it like that. Yuu swallows and bows his head. “I apologize, Katashi-sensei.”

“It’s good that you acknowledge your wrongdoing. Now all that remains is administering discipline.” The Principal is sitting still, like a statue, hands linked before him on Yuu’s folder. “This offense is serious enough to get you expelled.”

The room spins. For a moment, everything’s cold and Yuu can’t breathe. The club… Asahi… Ryuu… the guys… Where would he go? Join another school? Would another school even take a student who’s been expelled? What will his parents say? What’s he going to do? “What…” He shuts up, realizing he doesn’t know what he’s going to say. A sudden fierce reluctance to beg or plead flares up inside him. He doesn’t know what to do, so he stands straight and still, like the warriors on TV waiting for the death-blow. At least he can avoid showing weakness while he’s waiting for his life to be over.

“However,” the principal says after what seems like forever, “since this is your first offense, and you have shown yourself to be diligent and applied in extracurricular activities, I believe a more lenient approach than expulsion is warranted in this case.”

Yuu’s knees give way all at once and he half-stumbles where he stands. Hurriedly, he rights himself, standing straight once more. _Show dignity._ Should he say “thank you” or should he remain silent? He settles for silence, head bowed respectfully. After all, the principal isn’t done talking yet.

Katashi-sensei frowns, and Yuu wonders if he should have thanked him after all. “Have your parents sign this,” he says, pulling a pad over and writing something out by hand. He tears the paper off the pad. “You’re getting a week’s suspension, and a month banned from club activities.”

“Yes, Katashi-sensei.” Yuu feels lightheaded with relief. It could have been worse, a lot worse, and while a month away from volleyball fills him with a heavy ache, he’ll find a way to practice. It’ll be over in no time. There’s an older ladies’ league not far from where he lives. He can practice with them. He’ll—

The principal clears the papers off his desk so that one side of it is free. It’s an odd thing to do. He rises from his chair and crosses the room. He’s slightly behind Yuu but still in his line of sight, so Yuu sees it when Katashi-sensei withdraws a long, flexible cane from a closet.

His heart drops.

He’s heard rumors. Whispers. Passing jokes, mainly from his third-year senpais. He knows it’s against the law, and so he thought they were just tall tales to scare the underclassmen, the type of rumor that circulates around every school, right along with who likes who and who’s dating who. No-one’s _spoken_ of it, not seriously. But now, watching Katashi-sensei flexing the rattan in his hands, he knows the rumors were true.

His mouth is dry as the principal turns to him. His core is heavy and chilled and there’s a prickling under his skin. He opens his mouth, but what is there to say? It happens. He knows it still happens. His dry throat works and he sets his jaw and holds his head high, doing his best to stay tall and stand with dignity.

“Young people today have forgotten the meaning of discipline,” Katashi-sensei says, sounding thoughtful, almost as if he’s talking to himself. “In my day, the lenient punishments were sitting _seiza_ or holding buckets of water. The more serious punishments, well. Most students don’t need that now. But definitely,” the principal walks around so he’s standing to Yuu’s left, between Yuu and the desk, “a student who assaulted a teacher and damaged school property would not escape a very harsh punishment indeed.” He jerks his head toward the desk. “Trousers and underwear down and bend over the desk.”

Yuu’s heart thuds down hard into his chest. His breath sounds heavy and loud in his ears as he starts to move. _At least it’s not on the hands,_ he thinks, crossing the few steps to stand with his hips touching the desk. _I need those for volleyball. Hand damage could stop me playing for life. The butt’s okay, it’s just a little pain. I can do this._

He doesn’t ask how many he’s getting as he pulls down his long trousers, shoving down the gym shorts he’s wearing underneath and his underwear, staying close to the desk so that his front is hidden by its wooden bulk. Hurriedly, he bends over it. He’s short enough that he has to rise up on tiptoe, stretching his hands out to grip the other side. His heart is still slamming against his ribcage and he can hear his breathing, quick and shallow. _It’s okay, Noya. It’s okay, Rolling Thunder. You can do this. You can do this._

“You will get ten strokes,” the stern voice comes from behind him, “and if you break position or try to move away, that stroke will be repeated. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sensei,” Yuu manages to say. He has to clear his dry throat as he says it.

There’s a whistling sound as the cane whooshes through the air. Terror grips Yuu, then he relaxes as no pain comes and he realizes it was a practice swing. He’s still in the grip of that relief, breathing shallowly, when the sound whines through the air again and the cane impacts his bottom.

For an instant, he feels nothing at all, then a cold line across the part of his butt where he sits down. Then—

He arches up off the desk with a wailing gasp. It’s _unthinkable,_ like touching searing metal. Everything in his body is screaming _run run run run run_ , and it’s still burning, white-hot, and he _can’t_ take another hit he _can’t—_

There’s another whine and a dull _thwock_ as the cane hits, and this time it’s lower, it wraps around his butt and bites deep into the side of his hip, and he throws his head back and _yells_. The piercing sensation of a claw buried in his flesh where the cane bit into his side is unbearable. His heart is hammering hard enough to deafen him and he can feel his face and hair damp with the sudden sweat that’s broken out all over. The pain isn’t localized: he can feel it course through his blood, searing through his arms, his legs—

\-- _his head—_ the cane lands again, this time across the tops of his thighs, and a hoarse cry is punched out of him. The agony feels like it’s bursting out through the top of his head, and for the first time he understands what the phrase “mad with pain” means. His body is expanding outwards and his skin can’t contain it anymore and his head fills with _no no no no no can’t stand it can’t can’t can’t can’t can’t—_

“Have some dignity. Stop crying out so much,” comes the dry voice from behind him, and it helps ground him, helps him focus through the heart-stopping torment thundering through his body and eating him alive. He realizes he’s whining out with each gasping breath, his chest heaving where it’s pressed against the wood. Yuu reaches out through the shaking and the sweating and the seizing of his heart, finds the reserve of strength he seeks when he’s at the end of a match, at the end of his endurance. _This is just the same. It’s endurance. It’s—_

The cane whines again and lashes the tops of his thighs directly over the previous cut. He’s got his throat forced shut, but a groan claws its way through, harsh and guttural, feeling like it’s tearing out his throat. _No no no no no no no_ starts up in his head again, his own ragged breathing echoing loud in his ears. It’s not endurance, he can’t fool himself into thinking this is the same as a test of his endurance. This is his body terrified for itself, screaming at him to do whatever it takes to _stop stop stop please stop—_

And then he does scream in earnest, a high-pitched shriek torn out of him. This time the cane hit high, and it struck something that sends electricity arcing through his body, like a lightning-strike, from the center of his left hip piercing down his leg. He straightens up, still shrieking, clapping his hand to the top of his thigh. He knows from volleyball, knows from the areas he’s been told to protect: _Sciatic nerve._

His left leg starts to twitch uncontrollably, and the tremors take him all over. He realizes he’s sobbing full-voiced and loud, and then, with horror, he also realizes that he’s lost control of his bladder.

“Shameful,” comes the cold voice from above him. “Put your hands back.”

Gritting his teeth, Yuu drags in a sobbing breath, not bothering anymore to hide the tears that have pooled on the desk. He’s already humiliated himself, how much lower can he possibly sink? Still gasping and shaking, he bends over and drags his hand back, until he’s in position holding the edge of the desk again.

Thoughts crowd through his head, past the piercing whine of nerve pain. He straightened up, moved out of position, so the stroke should be repeated… But the principal isn’t saying anything about it… Maybe he didn’t notice… Why’s the next one taking so long? It seems to take forever, the sounds of footsteps pacing around him and hemming and hawing behind him. But he can’t seem to relax. trembling and moaning with the anticipation of the next one falling. When it does, it whips down low, cutting across his thighs again, digging into the side with a spike of piercing pain that makes him howl. His leg is still twitching from the nerve strike from earlier, and he can feel himself trembling against the wood, his voice a low, continuous moan, breaking into a scream as another cut whips across his lower buttocks. He’s half-mad with pain, but his legs seem to be keeping themselves tight and close together out of sheer terror that his balls might somehow get hit, and he can’t question it, just hang onto the desk and somehow endure it. He’s lost count, but there can’t be more than two or three left, can there? Surely, _surely, please—_

Another stroke lashes across his upper thighs again, the tip biting in deep and electrifying and for a moment he has the crazy thought that _dying would be easier than this_. He sobs, twitching but not arching any more: it’s like he’s lost the strength to do anything but lie there and take it. A much younger Yuu once touched a hot pan and burned himself: it’s like that now, a searing that starts with each lash but pushes through his nerves and tendons, shrieking _stop stop please stop._ _Thwock_ the cane lands again: in his mind’s eye he can see the flesh blistering and peeling, even as he tries, desperately, to say to himself _Stop being a drama queen, Noya_ and then white lights flash in front of his eyes as the next stroke lands. Everything’s suddenly quiet and fuzzy and he goes away from himself for a while.

* * *

“…pull yourself together. Nishinoya? Are you listening to me? _Get up!”_

White. Nothing but white. Hard blinking. Fast, shallow breathing. Wooden desk. Searing pain, crackling out from his butt and thighs to the ends of his fingers and toes. He remembers. Principal’s office. Caning. Get up. Get up? It’s over, then. Thank fuck. Over. Okay. Over. Move, Yuu. Come on, move!

He flounders, trying to get his arms under him. He can’t seem to: he’s slow and clumsy, like at the end of a long, grueling training, only worse. Much worse. His entire lower body is on fire. His face and the desk are wet. Everything’s fuzzy, like he’s seeing it at a distance. He’d say it was an adrenaline crash, except he hasn’t been playing, so it can’t be that, and anyway an adrenaline crash doesn’t leave you feeling like you’re going to pass out.

“Come on, boy, get off this desk so you can clean up!”

By main force, Yuu levers himself off the desk. “Oh sh…” His knees buckle and there’s a piercing pain in his left leg as he drops to the floor. His knees land in a puddle and shame washes over him as he _remembers._

“Go into the washroom,” the principal instructs. “There are towels there. Come back and clean up the mess you made on the floor. Clean yourself up before you pull your trousers back up, too.”

 _Keep going, keep going, keep going._ Somehow, Yuu makes it to all fours and then to his feet. Trousers still bunched around his ankles, he hobbles, stooping, into the washroom. At least it’s attached to the office, so he doesn’t have to go out into the hallway. He wets a towel and limps back, shards of pain piercing at him with every step like broken glass, and, leaning on the desk for support, makes it to his hands and knees to clean the floor. Then he wipes off his tears and snot from the desk as well. He returns the soiled towels to the hamper. In the privacy of the washroom, ashamed of himself, he uses a towel to wipe at his legs where he peed himself like a fucking three-year-old, dabbing gingerly at the wetness on the backs of his legs as well. The towel comes away red. He stares at it with dull fascination, but it doesn’t seem to mean much. He dumps everything back in the hamper and grits his teeth. It’s excruciating to drag the fabric of his trousers up over the welts on his legs and butt, and he has to bite back a groan, but he manages it. Then, still bent over, he shuffles back outside and stands before the principal’s desk again. The cane has disappeared, and the principal is sitting calmly at his desk like nothing has happened. He picks up the form and holds it out to Yuu. “Bring this back a week from today, signed by a parent or guardian,” he instructs. Yuu can see his hand shaking as he takes it. “You may go.”

Yuu shuffles out. He has no clue how much time passed when he was inside, but the hallway’s deserted: it must be after time to go home. Thank goodness, he really didn’t want to run into anyone in the corridors, not looking like this. He needs to go home – he’s not sure he can walk but he’ll have to – but first he has to get his stuff from the club room. His bag and everything are in there. So he drags himself down the hallway, step by unsteady step.

He’s shaking all over, heart still thudding against his ribs. He finds he has to cling to the windowsills and the doorframes to stay upright, the raw throbbing in his butt and legs almost swallowed up by the frightening weakness, like his muscles have been pulled out at the root and replaced with limp noodles. What the hell’s wrong with him? Yeah, it sucked, but – his parents’ generation got beat all the time, didn’t they? _This isn’t much different from being tired after a match, this isn’t much different from being tired after a match,_ he keeps repeating in his head, trying to convince himself. But after a match he doesn’t feel like he wants to throw up, after a match his heart isn’t jackhammering in his chest like it’s going to burst and make him fall down with it. After a match, there's a good, healthy ache in his limbs, not this sick burn. After a match he's revved up and energized, even if he's tired, but now he can barely stay standing. He feels like he wants to lie down just from the exhaustion of feeling his heart beating.

He moves across the courtyard at a snail’s pace. The clubroom window is darkened, which is good. He can’t possibly put up a front for anyone right now. Maybe he should just lie down and spend the night in the clubroom. For a moment he’s genuinely scared of passing out on the way home, but he shrugs off the thought. He won’t pass out. He’ll be _fine._ His heart thunders in his chest, threatening to pull him into unconsciousness. No. _No._ He's _fine._

He steps into the clubroom, switching on the light.

“Oh, thank fuck.”

Yuu yelps in shock, leaping into the air. “Shit!”

He barely has time to realize it’s Ryuu before his best friend’s in his face, grasping his upper arms. “What _happened?!_ I heard about your fight with Asahi and how you punched the vice-principal in the face! I’ve been waiting forever in hopes you’d come back here before you went home…”

“I _didn’t_ punch him in the face!” Yuu bursts out. “Talk about gossip! A couple hours, and already the story’s blown up? I just—He grabbed me and I r—r—reacted…” To his shock, his teeth are chattering and he can’t finish the sentence.

“Hey.” Ryuu’s tone softens. “It doesn’t matter. You okay, Yuu? Here,” he pats the mat in the corner, “sit down.”

Yuu flinches, and it’s worse because he can’t stop shaking. “I c-c-can’t sit d-down.” It’s not only because he’s blazing with sick pain: he’s so unsteady right now, he thinks if he sits down he might not be able to get up again.

“You’re _not_ okay.” Ryuu’s eyes, always mischievous and bright, are wide and soft as they meet his. “What’s the matter, Yuu? What did he say to you?”

Yuu blinks. His chest is still heaving, his heart hammering like he’s been doing sprints. He swallows and leans against Ryuu’s supporting arms. “He d-didn’t… s-say…” Ah, fuck it. He lets his head drop and confesses it to the floor. “He caned me.”

“HE WHAT!” Ryuu drops Yuu’s arms and straightens up in shock. Then he bends slightly to be on Yuu’s eye level. “He fucking what—He what… What—Oh shit…” He swallows. “Oh, holy shit.” Then he says urgently, “Let me see.”

“I’m not sh-showing you m-my butt, Ryuu!”

“Shut up, of course you are.” One arm goes around Yuu’s shoulders and the other fumbles for the clasp of his pants. “Doctor Tanaka sees all and knows all.”

“O-okay.” Yuu slumps in resignation, one arm still clutching at Ryuu’s shoulder for support. “Careful,” he warns. “It hurts.”

Ryuu stills, then releases the arm around Yuu’s shoulder to very carefully slide down his trousers, shorts and underwear. Yuu can’t help a choked gasp as the fabric catches on the welts, sending piercing bolts of electricity through his veins. Then Ryuu is behind him, and there’s no sound at all.

“…that _fucking asshole.”_ Ryuu’s tone is hushed, but it blazes with shock and outrage. “Oh, fuck. Oh, man. _Fuck,_ man. Fuck.” There’s a shuddering, indrawn breath, slow like maybe Ryuu’s trying to control his breathing. When Ryuu speaks again, his voice is thick. “Oh, Yuu.” He chokes. _“Dammit.”_

Everything feels slow, or maybe Ryuu’s moving quickly, because he’s managed to fix Yuu’s clothing and is lowering him to lie down on his front on the mat spread out by the wall. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay. You’ll be fine, everything’s gonna be fine. Just stay there. Let Doctor Tanaka take care of everything, all right?” Yuu can see Ryuu’s feet on his eye level. It’s like he's fallen asleep with his eyes open: now he’s lying down, he can’t move or do anything at all. He can feel his heart pounding against the mat he’s lying on, hard enough to lift him up a fraction with each heartbeat. There’s a soft whisper and then the beep of a cell phone dialing. “Yeah. Neesan. Code 34, okay? Club room at the school.” Ryuu listens for a moment. “You’re the best. Waiting.”

There’s the click of the phone being flipped shut. Ryuu’s feet move out of Yuu’s line of sight and a moment later, he settles on the floor and lifts Yuu’s head into his lap, face turned toward Ryuu's body. “That hurt? This feel okay?”

“Y-yeah. It’s fine.” The shaking’s started up again, his teeth chattering embarrassingly. Ryuu’s pant-leg feels unnaturally warm against his cheek. “I g-g-gotta get h-home…”

“Shh. Shh. It’s all taken care of. Ride’ll be here in a minute. Here…” Ryuu’s hand folds around Yuu’s, large and strong and warm, and Yuu clasps back tightly. He feels like he’s freezing. Ryuu’s hand rubs his back and it warms him a little. “God, Yuu, that _fucking asshole,_ I’m going to tear him limb from limb, I’m going to make him wish he’d never been born, can’t believe he fucking _maimed_ you, fucking tortured you…”

Yuu’s teeth are chattering, but Ryuu’s being dramatic as usual. He has to calm him down. “Don’t b-be a d-drama queen…”

“Shut up! You didn’t see…” Ryuu swallows. “You’re _bleeding,_ Yuu. And—and— Dammit, you're freezing.” There's a whisper of fabric and then Ryuu's uniform jacket is draped over him. It's warm with his friend's body heat, and it makes Yuu feel a little less like he's freezing to death. Like maybe he can breathe. He shifts, greedily drinking in the warmth. Ryuu tucks the fabric tight around him, still ranting. "How dare he, how fucking _dare_ he…”

His best friend’s righteous rage feels good, but Yuu feels he ought to be fair. “I did lash out,” he concedes. “I c-could have hurt someone…”

“Shut up!” Ryuu’s voice is filled with the ferocity Yuu knows so well. “Don’t you _dare_ say that was okay or you deserved it!”

“I’m just,” a full-body shudder takes Yuu and Ryuu holds his hand tightly until it passes, “just saying… When he-he touched me, I just r-reacted b-but… What if there’d been… been glass o-or…”

“Don’t. You. Dare.” There’s the familiar fire in Ryuu’s tone, and Yuu doesn’t need to see his friend’s eyes to see the blazing determination he gets when it’s a hard rally and they’re at match point. “Just because you _might_ have hurt someone by accident is no excuse to…” Ryuu chokes on the word. “To hurt you on purpose.”

“Uh…” Yuu knows it _hurts_ , he can feel it burning through him like a broken bone. But this isn’t the same as a broken bone, surely? “I’m not sure if you can call it hurting me…”

Ryuu squeezes his shoulders. “If you weren’t so hurt, I’d smack you. Would you be okay with that happening to me or Suga-san or any of our teammates? Do you think Takeda-sensei would do that to us, to _any_ of us, what that fucker did to you?” Yuu feels Ryuu’s lap shift under him. “What do you think Takeda-sensei would do if he found out?”

Yuu jerks. “No!” Moving is almost more than he can do, but he manages to roll onto his side so he can look up into Ryuu’s face. “You can’t tell him.” He meets his friend’s shocked eyes urgently. Just the thought of the disappointment in their kindly teacher's face is shattering. “The suspension’s bad enough. Please, Ryuu. Takeda-sensei can’t know.”

He feels Ryuu’s stomach rise and fall, slow and deep. “Okay. Okay, Yuu. Whatever you say. Need-to-know basis only. Takeda-sensei doesn’t find out.”

“Thanks…” Yuu swallows. Suddenly, to his mortification, something hot wells up in his chest and surges up in his gullet. His breath drags down his throat in a noisy gasp and all at once he’s gasping with loud, stupid sobs. “I-S—Sorry…” he chokes, feeling hot tears on his cheeks. “S-sorry…”

“No, no, no, shh, shh, it’s okay. Let it out.” Ryuu bends low over him, bracing him with both his arms, draping the jacket around him again and pulling him up so his head’s against Ryuu’s chest. “I’m here, it’s okay, Yuu, it’s okay, you’re okay, you’re fine, shh, shh…” He keeps murmuring comfort, holding Yuu tight and rubbing his back, and Yuu finds he’s somehow wrapped an arm around Ryuu’s waist and has been hitched up to be cradled in his best friend’s arms. Ryuu gathers him in tighter, wrapping him in his jacket and in his embrace, letting Yuu bury his face in his chest and soak his shirt with his tears, holding him close and keeping up the flow of soothing words. It’s soft and warm and safe, and beneath the consoling murmurs, Ryuu’s heartbeat is strong and steady and comforting under Yuu’s ear. It’s such a contrast from the hard wooden desk that he can’t bring himself to pull away. Yuu’s still shaking, he’s still in pain, but like this, he feels less like he’s adrift, like he’s found an anchor. Like it’s going to be okay. Like he’s safe. So he lets Ryuu hold him and rock him, and cries.

* * *

Yuu doesn’t know how long they stay there. His sobs subside, but Ryuu keeps him cradled close, still tenderly rubbing his free hand over Yuu’s back and shoulders, whispering into his hair, alternating words of comfort with curses and insults against “that fucking asshole” who dared to lay hand on Yuu. Yuu likes it. It makes him feel warm and safe. And a lot younger, like he used to feel when he was five years old or something. He shouldn’t feel this way! He’s grown now! But… he’s still shaking… and it’s not like Ryuu is being super-manly right now, either, so maybe this is okay. Maybe it’s okay to just let his best friend rub his back and hold him tight and comfort him, for now.

The rumble of a car’s engine sounds outside. “Ride’s here,” Ryuu announces. He slips out of their embrace and jumps to his feet. Then he bends, gets his arms around Yuu and hauls him up to a standing position. “There.” He reclaims his uniform jacket and takes Yuu's arm, but Yuu stops. “What’s wrong?” Ryuu asks, uncharacteristically gentle.

“I need to take off my trousers…” Yuu whispers, then, needing to confess it, even if Ryuu never speaks to him again, he looks at the floor, grits his teeth, and whispers, “I _peed myself!”_

For a moment, Ryuu’s face is blank, then a fury such as Yuu has never seen overwhelms his normally kind face. It’s just an instant, but in that instant, Yuu is actually scared of Tanaka Ryuunosuke.

“That son-of-a-bitch,” Ryuu hisses. Then he catches sight of Yuu’s face. Quick as a rebound, the rage morphs into a smirk. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re like a war hero, right? Refusing to break under torture.”

Yuu chokes. “It’s shameful.”

“Hell, no it isn’t. All the war heroes pissed themselves. They just don’t put it in the history books.” Ryuu squeezes Yuu’s shoulder, then kneels at his feet. “You’re wearing your gym shorts under there, I saw it,” he announces unnecessarily. “Here.” He holds out an arm. “Lean on me while you’re taking those off.”

The effort of standing has started up the trembling again, and Yuu is grateful for Ryuu’s shoulder to lean on as he lifts one leg, then another, pain knifing up his legs and back with every movement. He’s shivering and sweating by the time he’s done, and Ryuu crouches to help him, picking up the trousers and stuffing them into the bag. Then he lifts Yuu’s street shoes from the shelf and gently takes hold of Yuu’s right foot, pulling the school slipper off and toeing his foot into his shoe. He eases it in, then repeats the process with his left foot, then replaces the slippers on the shelf while Yuu leans on him and tries to keep from crying or falling down. “There! Doctor Tanaka takes care of everything.” Ryuu’s voice darkens. “You want to wash those as soon as you get home. They’re soaked with blood.” Then he swings Yuu’s bag over his own shoulder. “Easy now.” He gives Yuu his arm to lean on like he’s forty years old or something, and the worst thing is, Yuu _needs_ it.

Tanaka Saeko’s white van has never been such a welcome sight. To be honest, Yuu didn’t know how he was going to walk home. He’s never seen Saeko-neesan without a smile or a happy face, but right now she’s looking somber. “Thank you for coming, Neesan,” he says politely, and tries to bow. Bad mistake. The world spins and for a moment, he can’t right himself, unable to tell earth from sky. If Ryuu hadn’t caught him, he’d have pitched forward onto the concrete.

“There’s no need to be formal!” Saeko-neesan chides. “Just get in!”

“Dumb move.” Still holding him, Ryuu flings open the rear door. “In,” he instructs. “Lie down on the back seat on your front or side, and no complaints.”

Yuu thinks of putting up at least some kind of fight, just to save face, but when he lifts his leg to climb into the back seat, the skin on his thigh splits and he starts dripping fresh _fucking_ blood on the floor of Saeko-neesan’s van. “I’m sorry,” he grunts. The crazy shaking and breathing hard and pounding heart have started up again, leaving him stuck half-in, half-out, and dear god he can’t _fucking move_. He stills in the doorway. Shit, what’s he going to do? Stand here till he passes out like an idiot?

“Got you.” Strong hands lift Yuu bodily up into the cabin and lay him gently on the seat before he can ask Ryuu what the hell he thinks he’s doing. He could have _totally_ got into the van by himself. Probably.

“There.” Something mysterious and fabric-y – a towel? A shirt? – out of Ryuu’s bag is tucked under his legs. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Just rest till we get you home.” Then Ryuu's jacket is draped over him again like a blanket, and his own bag is slipped under his head like a pillow.

Yuu opens his mouth to say something, and what comes out is, “Code 34? Is that like Rule 34?”

Ryuu barks a laugh as he slams the van door closed. “Nope. Tanaka secret. It’s classified!”

“Saeko and Ryuunosuke’s eyes only!” Saeko-neesan chimes in. “Maybe we'll initiate you into the code later. When you're up to it.”

The engine rumbles and the van drives off. _Saeko-neesan’s driving a lot slower than usual,_ Yuu thinks, watching the streetlights slip by through the window above him…

“…you’re home!”

Yuu blinks. He _fell asleep?_ Sure enough, that’s his street: he recognizes it from what he can see in his position below the window. The door opens and Ryuu clambers in. “Easy now. Just take it easy—” Yuu tries to move too quickly and cries out. “I said _easy!_ Shh, shh, shh. Slow and easy now. Let Doctor Tanaka give the orders.”

Getting Yuu from a reclining position to the crouch needed to get out of the van leaves Yuu gasping. Ryuu is breathing in sync and flinching along with him and cursing out loud whenever Yuu cries out in pain, and by the end of it, Yuu affectionately wonders which of them is hurting more. Finally, he’s standing on the tarmac. “Want me to come inside with you?” Ryuu asks, slinging Yuu’s bag over his shoulder again.

“Uh, n-no thanks,” Yuu says. “I’m probably going to be grounded for a week anyway when I tell them I’ve been suspended, so…”

 _“Suspended?”_ Ryuu stares. “You didn’t say anything about that!”

“Yeah, from school for a week, from volleyball for a month,” Yuu says, trying to sound casual. “No big deal.”

In the streetlight, Ryuu’s eyes are more serious than he’s ever seen them. He stands silent for a moment, his gaze boring into Yuu’s. “You’ll need that time to heal,” he says quietly. “Here.” He hands Yuu a bag. “Doctor Tanaka’s orders. Arnica cream and tablets for bruising, aloe vera gel for the cuts, vitamin B for the nerves, pain pills to keep you comfortable, so don’t be a jackass and _take them…”_

Yuu blinks. “What… when did you get all this stuff?”

“We stopped by the pharmacy on the way home,” Ryuu explains. “You were out like a light on the back seat. Just take them, okay? And I’m gonna text you to make sure you’re using them. Don’t be a hero.”

Yuu’s throat feels very thick as Saeko-neesan waves him goodbye and Ryuu walks him to the door with a hand under his elbow. He unslings Yuu’s bag and places it on the stoop. “Sure you can handle it from here, wounded warrior?”

For the first time that evening, Yuu finds a smile. “Don’t call me that!”

Ryuu stands up straight and snaps off a salute. Then he turns and walks back to the van. The van doesn’t drive off while Yuu rings the bell, and when the door opens and he steps inside, it remains parked until he closes the door behind him.

* * *

The lights flash by as Saeko drives her van down the highway. She’s rarely seen her little brother this upset. He’s always been excitable and prone to losing his cool, but this time she can sense a sorrow that runs deep. And no wonder, from what he’s just told her. She can hardly believe it – she knew shit like this happened, but not at _Karasuno,_ not to their _baby brother._ “Are you _fucking serious,_ Ryuu? You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

“Neesan,” Saeko sees Ryuu clench his jaw as he looks out of the window, “I saw the marks. He was bleeding, and—and bruised and his skin was…” He winces. “It was like one of those goddam photos of torture in the wars. Nobody deserves that! Least of all _Yuu!”_

Code 34 is something she and Ryuu came up with for “lift needed, someone’s incapacitated, no questions asked.” When they fixed it up, she had imagined it needing to be used for someone being drunk or, at most, if Ryuu or his friends got in some kind of fight. She never expected to see Ryuu coming out of the school supporting sweet little Yuu-kun, limping along and leaning on his arm like an old, old man. And when she saw the blood running down Yuu’s legs, she’d never been gladder that they came up with that code, never been gladder to be there for him. For _them_.

“We should call the cops on that asshole,” she says dully. Dear god, the poor kid looked so small, so hurt. It’s hard to keep her eyes on the road. But even as she says it, it sounds lame to her own ears.

“What for?” Shit, Ryuu sounds so defeated. “You know they won’t do anything.”

 _That’s fucking true,_ she thinks, feeling her fists clench on the wheel in frustration. Then a chilling thought occurs to her. “Uh…” She hates asking, especially that this is her little brother, but she has to. “Ryuu… Are you sure that’s the only thing that happened?”

“What do you mean, the only thing? Isn’t it bad enough?”

“There was blood on his legs.” Saeko fidgets in her seat. “Uh… did anything happen to him, besides the beating? You know…” Damn it, she’s going to have to say it straight out. “Was he raped?”

In different circumstances, the squawk Ryuu lets out would have been amusing. Maybe Saeko should have chosen her words more carefully. Well, too late now. “Shit, no! No! He wouldn’t hide something like that! And I helped him undress, I’d have seen… _No,_ Neesan!” He shakes his head violently. “That fucking cane broke his skin all over. That was where the blood was coming from. I saw it.” He shakes his head. “Shit, if he’d done _that_ I’d have murdered him and gone to _fucking_ jail and _damn_ my future.”

She inhales and holds the breath in long and tight before exhaling. “We’re going to get him back, aren’t we?”

 _“Hell,_ yeah!” But then he does a double-take and glances at her sharply. “You said ‘we’.”

“Of fucking course I said ‘we.’”

“You don’t have to, Neesan. It’s not your fight.”

“Like hell it isn’t, dumbass, stop being such an idiot.” She sees him relax a little into the seat out of the corner of her eye. “So. Any ideas?”

“I don’t know. Shit.” Ryuu raises a hand and rubs hard at his face. “Dammit. I want to break his nose. Or his arm or something. Yeah. Arm." Her little brother's voice is firmer now. "I want to break his fucking arm. The arm he used to..." He scrubs at his face harder. "You know." His voice is very small. "To beat him.” Ryuu groans in frustration and leans his head back against the seat. “But there’s no way for me to do that.”

Saeko takes one hand off the wheel to rub her chin with her knuckle, slowly, back and forth, as she goes through her mental list of people she knows. “Hmm,” she muses out loud. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

* * *

From: Tanaka Ryuunosuke

_You better be taking the meds we got you. I will sic Neesan on you. Dont think I wont._

From: Nishinoya Yuu

_Dont worry I am_

From: Tanaka Ryuunosuke

_Ointments too_

From: Nishinoya Yuu

_Ok_

From: Tanaka Ryuunosuke

_Dont lie to me. Dont make me demand ass pics_

From: Nishinoya Yuu

_Kiss my ass_

From: Tanaka Ryuunosuke

_I will if I have to. TAKE THE DAMN PILLS AND USE THE DAMN OINTMENTS_

From: Nishinoya Yuu

_Ok ok_

From: Tanaka Ryuunosuke

_Hey I know it prob hurts to put them on but if u dont heal good you cant play_

From: Nishinoya Yuu

_I didnt know you cared_

From: Tanaka Ryuunosuke

_I fucking care Yuu_

From: Nishinoya Yuu

_I know. Thanks Ryuu_

From: Tanaka Ryuunosuke

_I love you little bro_

From: Nishinoya Yuu

_Not little. Love you too asshole_

From: Tanaka Ryuunosuke

_Coming by tomorrow to check on u_

From: Nishinoya Yuu

_U dont trust me_

From: Tanaka Ryuunosuke

_Of course not_

From: Nishinoya Yuu

_Smart guy_

From: Tanaka Ryuunosuke

_U know it_

Lying on his front in bed, Yuu smiles, warmth spreading through his chest despite the pain. He lays his phone aside and rummages through the bag Ryuu got him for the ointments. Ryuu’s right, if he doesn’t put them on, he’ll be slower to heal. Time to bite the bullet and use them.

* * *

“Asahi-san! Asahi-san! Wait up! Hey, man, how you holding up?”

Asahi slows down as he’s walking toward the exit, seeing Tanaka-san jogging toward him from the end of the corridor. He waits, hoping he’s not going to be subjected to another grilling about why he’s not coming back to volleyball. Not after today.

Today has been insane. He came into school to find the entire place buzzing with the craziest stories – about _Noya-san_ of all people punching the Vice-Principal in the hallway, with variants of the story saying he elbowed him in the face, called his family rude names, and/or kicked him in the shin. The one thing that all the accounts agree on is that Noya-san’s been officially suspended from school for a week for whatever he did – which, whatever it was, can’t be anything remotely like what they’re saying. Yeah, they had a shouting match in the corridor, and yeah, Asahi knows Noya-san was mad, but he also knows him to be a fundamentally respectful person. It’s got to be some sort of mistake. He probably turned and bumped into the Vice-Principal or something. He really wants to text Noya-san or call him and ask him what’s up, but after their fight yesterday, he’s not even sure that Noya-san would want to hear from him. _He’ll be better off if I stay away from him._

Tanaka-san jogs toward him, catching up, his face soft and sympathetic. It’s weird: he never looks like this. “Hey, man,” he says once he’s within normal speaking distance, “good thing I saw you. How you holding up?”

Asahi shrugs. He doesn’t deserve Tanaka-san’s concern. Tanaka actually gets kills. He’s an asset to the team, not a hindrance. And he _certainly_ doesn’t get into fights with his teammates in the hallways and get them suspended from school. “Okay, I guess,” he mutters, trying to match Tanaka’s uncharacteristically polite tone. “Thanks for asking.”

“No, seriously, Asahi-san.” Tanaka-san falls into step beside him. “How are you dealing? Are you okay?”

Asahi frowns. He’d have expected reproach, not concern, from his teammate… “I think it’s for the best,” he confesses.

Tanaka-san stops walking. “What?” There’s something odd in his piercing gaze.

“Well…” Asahi stops too. “I really don’t think I’m an asset to the team at this point.”

“Oh!” Tanaka-san lets out a huff. It almost sounds… relieved? “Right, yeah. Look, man, don’t be hasty. Anyway, that doesn’t matter right now. Give yourself time to cool off. I’m sure Noya-san will have plenty to say about that, anyhow.” He looks straight at Asahi. “Are you going to see him today?”

Asahi blinks. “See him?” He’s suspended, so… “You mean, at his house?”

Tanaka-san frowns. He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, then closes it again. He’s silent for a moment before he says, again with that odd tone in his voice, “Where else?”

Asahi turns away and starts walking again, slowly. “No. No, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Hey.” Tanaka-san falls into step beside him again, his tone pitched low, like he’s sharing some kind of secret. “You gotta be feeling bad, I don’t blame you. But look… I don’t know what kind of macho bullshit he told you, probably that he’s fine or some crap like that, but he was really torn up, Asahi-san. He needs his friends right now. I know you two are close. I think he’d appreciate you being around, even if he doesn’t show it.” He takes a deep breath. “No matter what bullshit line he fed you about being fine.”

Asahi’s heart pounds uncomfortably to hear that Noya-san was upset. But he’s certain that he’s partly the cause of the suspension, getting Noya-san angry in the hallway like that. He can’t face him. He’s not sure he can ever face him again. “He didn’t tell me any ‘bullshit’,” he says, looking down at his feet as he walks down the concrete. “It’s my fault.” He didn’t mean to say it, but it slipped out.

“He doesn’t blame you!” Tanaka-san says loudly as they exit the school gates and turn out onto the main street. “It’s not your fault the Principal was watching and it’s definitely not your fault the asshole laid into him! Nobody could have imagined that would happen, not you or me or anyone.”

Asahi feels a pang. He knows Katashi-sensei from a distance as a stern and forbidding disciplinarian, and he probably delivered a long lecture and said everything he could to hurt Noya-san as deep as he knew how. He wishes he could comfort Noya-san, but the way they parted, Asahi’s probably the last person he wants to see. “I guess I wouldn’t expect anything else from Katashi-sensei,” he sighs.

Tanaka-san stops walking again, and this time the odd expression on his face is plain: shock. “What did you say?” he says, low and dangerous.

“Uh…” Asahi plays back what he’s just said, not sure what set Tanaka-san off. “I said I wouldn’t expect anything else from Katashi-sensei…” Tanaka-san is staring at him with wide, shocked eyes and an open mouth. “He…” Asahi flounders for something to say. “W… uh… I heard Noya-san pushed the Vice-Principal, right? Or bumped into him or something?”

“And you think that makes it _okay?”_ Tanaka-san is still using that low, dangerous voice, his shoulders coming up like an attack dog.

“Well—uh…” Asahi’s flustered now, not quite sure what he did wrong. “I guess—he’s always been strict, right? Uh—and I don’t know exactly what Noya-san did, uh…”

“I never knew you were such a _fucking bastard.”_ Tanaka-san’s in Asahi’s face before he can react, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. Asahi can only stare. “You seriously think that was _okay?_ Your best friend, _my_ best friend, our teammate, our _Noya—_ what the _fuck_ could he _possibly_ have done to deserve _that?!”_

“Well, it’s a… Yeah, maybe it was extreme, but…” Asahi’s shirt is still fisted in Tanaka-san’s hand, and he can’t help thinking there’s something he’s missing. “I—I just said…” Tanaka-san gives him a little shake. “I… I know the Principal is strict…”

“God,” Tanaka-san’s voice lowers to a growl, “I misjudged you. I always thought you cared about your friends. About _Yuu._ But you have the nerve to stand there and say to me it was extreme but it’s _okay_ because the Principal is _strict?_ What the fuck does that even mean, Asahi? I’m starting to think you don’t care about Noya-san at all.”

“Of course I care!” Asahi waves his hands.

“Sure you do.” Tanaka-san bares his teeth and gives Asahi another shake. “Did you even _see_ him after that asshole was done with him? No, of course you didn’t. I was the one who had to clean up the blood and half-carry him because he was in too much pain to fucking _move_ , never mind walk! I was the one who had to g—Shit!”

Asahi feels the blood drain from his face. His limbs are dead weights hanging off him. The world tilts and his knees buckle. It’s only Tanaka-san’s grip on his collar that keeps him from faceplanting onto the pavement. Everything in Asahi’s body has gone cold, heavy, like he’s frozen to death. He blinks, on his knees on the tarmac, Tanaka-san kneeling opposite him, still with a hand fisted in his shirt. “…blood?” Asahi whispers.

Tanaka-san’s fist in his shirt goes very still, then unwinds from the fabric. “Shit,” he breathes. “You _didn’t_ _know.”_

“I…” The words echo oddly in Asahi’s ears. He can’t breathe. It’s fucking freezing. There are pins and needles in his extremities.

“I thought for sure he told you.” Tanaka-san’s words are slow, wondering. “But you didn’t know, did you?”

“Know what?” Asahi’s voice is echoing in his own ears like he’s down a well.

“Breathe, man.” Tanaka-san’s hands are gripping Asahi’s shoulders now. “Come on, take a breath. You’re going to pass out.”

Asahi tries, but the breath catches in his chest. “Come on.” Tanaka-san presses his knuckles against Asahi’s solar plexus. “Push at my hand with your lungs. Come on. Can’t have you passing out in the street.”

He manages to drag in a breath, then another. “You said… blood,” he whispers as soon as he can form words again. “What happened to Noya-san?”

“Ah, man…” Tanaka-san slumps lower on his knees, back bowed, hands falling into his lap. “The Principal whipped him with a cane, man,” he confesses, head down.

Asahi’s chest goes cold. His head feels tight with pressure. “He… he…” He tries to imagine it, can’t. _Noya…_ Bright, wonderful Noya-san… “He…” His brain grinds to a halt. He blinks helplessly.

Tanaka-san’s eyes flicker up for a split-second, then down again. “It wasn’t pretty. Tore up his butt and legs pretty bad.” Asahi’s stomach lurches, like he’s going to be sick. “Asshole really did a number on him.”

“But… but that’s against the law,” is all Asahi can blurt out. The sounds of the street are strangely quiet.

Head still bowed, Tanaka-san lets out a low, bitter laugh. “Yeah. It is.” He shakes his head. Then he looks up at Asahi, meeting his eyes. “Me and my big mouth. I thought for sure he told you.” He shakes his head, huffing out a breath from between clenched teeth. “He’s gonna have my head for this.”

Asahi uses his hands to steady himself as he gets his legs under him and pushes up from the tarmac. He has to see Noya-san, has to see for himself that he’s okay. Tanaka-san’s calling after him but Asahi’s pelting to the bus stop because _he has to see him_ **_now._ **

* * *

Yuu’s getting some water from the kitchen when he hears the doorbell, followed by a rapid-fire knocking at the door. Huh. He didn’t expect Ryuu yet; there’s practice after school. Ah, crap, he really hopes Ryuu didn’t skip practice. The team’s already at a disadvantage without a libero, and probably Asahi-san, the great soft idiot, is at home still wallowing in self-hate… losing Ryuu, even for one practice, is just what they _don’t_ need.

He limps to the door on legs that are still wobbly, wondering when he’s going to be healed up enough to get practicing again. It’s not just the pain; it’s the weakness he feels all over. This really sucks—

He swings the door open to find Asahi-san standing there, wide brown eyes filled with worry. No, not worry— _panic._ He can’t have heard, can he? Nobody knows. Nobody _can_ know, and the _last person in the world_ he wants worrying and freaking out is Asahi-san. But he’s here, at Yuu’s door, pale as a sheet and all but shaking.

There’s no way Asahi-san knows, but Yuu still can’t help thinking: _Well, shit._

“Hi,” Yuu says, and Asahi-san _bows._ Actually _bows._ Oh, this is not good. Yuu opens his mouth to say something else, can’t find anything to say, and ends up staring into those big brown eyes. He swallows. He’s not going to freaking bow, so he says “Hi,” again.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.” Remembering his manners, Yuu pushes the door open and steps back from the genkan for Asahi-san to come in and take off his shoes. He almost turns his back on Asahi-san to lead him into the house, but then he remembers: he's wearing loose-fitting shorts today, the only thing he could bear touching his skin, and they show _everything_. So he backs away casually, fetching up against the wall and leaning on it in a way he hopes looks cool. He opens his mouth to say something, and what comes out is, “Why aren’t you at practice?”

Asahi-san shakes his head, shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at the floor. Then his head comes back up, those beautiful, pained brown eyes fixed unnervingly on Yuu’s face. “I came to see how you were.”

Yuu shrugs, then gives his best devil-may-care smile, the patented Nishinoya grin. “I get a week off school. What’s not to like?”

Asahi-san winces. “You don’t look well.”

“I’m _fine!”_ Okay, maybe that’s pushing it. Yuu’s seen himself in the mirror: he looks like some kind of zombie, all grey and shit, hollows under his eyes and everything. He can see it in Asahi-san’s eyes, the worry. He folds his arms. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Tanaka-san told me what happened.” Asahi’s hands are out of his pockets and twisting nervously in front of him.

Yuu explodes. “Tanaka-san’s got a big mouth!”

“It wasn’t his fault. I found out by accident.” Asahi-san takes a step toward Yuu, his face impossibly soft. “Noya-san…”

Ugh. Asahi-san calms him, grounds him, _except_ when he's being all miserable like this. It _pisses Yuu off._ “Don’t ‘Noya-san’ me! I’m _fine!”_

 _“He beat you!”_ Asahi-san bursts out, agonized.

“It’s nothing our parents’ generation didn’t go through all the time.” Dizzy. Damage control. Elbow on the back of the futon, stand with ankles crossed, relaxed stance, look cool. Look unfazed.

“It was my fault,” Asahi-san whispers. He’s back to looking at the floor and Yuu could punch him.

“It was your fault I elbowed the Vice-Principal? It was your fault Katashi-sensei is an asshole? In what crazy corner of your mind is this _your fault?”_

“If I hadn’t been talking to you in the hallway—”

“Listen to yourself! If I hadn’t, if I hadn’t! What kind of talk is that? You can’t control everything, Asahi-san!”

Asahi-san runs a hand through his hair and turns away, taking a few paces. “I should be able to at least keep you from getting hurt,” he mutters, back turned.

“I’m a libero. Getting hurt is in the job description. It’s _not a big deal!”_

“It’s a big deal to me!” Asahi-san cries out like he’s in pain, whirling to face Yuu. The anguish on his face stops Yuu cold. They stare at each other for a long moment.

“Come back to the team,” Yuu says, flat.

“Sorry, but no.”

“We need you there.”

“I’m sorry. No.”

 _“I_ need you there!” He didn’t mean the embarrassing outburst, but he couldn’t stop it in time, and now it’s out in the open.

“No you don’t!” Asahi yells. “I got you hurt! You were hurt because of me!”

“You’re an idiot!” Yuu snaps.

“You’re just defending me, you don’t see the truth. I’ve done nothing this year but create disasters.”

“Everyone makes mistakes!” Yuu snaps. “Just because you think you should be like the superheroes doesn’t mean you are. So you messed up. So what?” He takes a step toward Asahi. “We need our ace. I told you, I’ve got your back. I need to know you have mine.”

Asahi-san falters for a moment, then he shakes his head. “I can’t…”

“I just _said_ it!” Yuu fumes. He’s getting a little lightheaded, but this idiot is pissing him off with his big brown eyes filled with guilt and sorrow. “I _need_ you! _We_ need you! I’m a libero, I can keep everything connected but I can’t score points! I need our ace to do that!”

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Asahi’s voice rises, “I can’t score points either!”

“All this because of one match?!”

“It’s not just a match anymore,” Asahi groans. “I got you suspended!” His voice drops and he runs a hand over his head. “I got you _hurt!”_

“So you’re just going to what, walk away from me? That’s your solution? Abandon me? –Us?”

“You’ll be better off without me!”

“How can you _say_ that, you—you _idiot!”_ Feeling tears well up in his eyes, Yuu turns away, scrubbing at his face.

He realizes his mistake when he hears a loud gasp behind him.

Oh, _shit._

He turns back and Asahi’s crying, backing away, a hand fisted at his mouth. “Oh god. Oh god,” he whispers, wide-eyed, shaking his head over and over. “Oh god, no.”

“Hey. It isn’t as bad as it looks…” In point of fact, Yuu knows it looks really, really bad. His legs are bruised black all the way down to the knee. The welts aren’t scabbing over yet, just splitting open when he moves, and to make matters worse, the skin’s peeling and shit. It was a real pain cleaning the blood off the toilet when he had to go. “It’s really okay…”

Asahi lets out a sob against his clenched fist. “Noya-san, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry…”

“You idiot! It’s not your fault.” Yuu feels his head spin, but he’s too angry to care.

“You’re hurt so _bad…”_ Asahi takes another step back.

Yuu’s really dizzy now, probably from how mad he is. “Don’t you _dare_ walk away!”

Asahi shakes his head violently, tears falling down his face. “I have to go.”

“You _coward!”_ Yuu bursts out. He takes a step toward Asahi, clenching his fists—and his treacherous legs give way. He pitches forward. “Shit!”

 _“Noya!”_ With a leap that would make a libero proud, Asahi leaps forward and catches Yuu before he can hit the floor.

They fold down together in slow-motion, Yuu lying sideways across Asahi's lap, facing him, his head resting in the crook of his elbow. Asahi’s hands are big and gentle, cradling him, and Yuu can smell his scent. It's calming, it gives him strength, like he could stay here forever, like he could get better. But Asahi is _walking away._ And Yuu’s still dizzy. And so frustrated he could punch something. He raises his hands to grip fistfuls of Asahi’s sleeves. “Are you going to go?” Yuu grates out.

Asahi looks down at him. This close, Yuu can see the tiny flecks of gold in his irises, see the tears welling up, the slight redness in the whites of his eyes. “I have to,” he murmurs.

“You don’t have to.” Yuu squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head bitterly at this obstinate idiot. “You don’t have to, you dumbass.” Asahi’s hold is warm and strong and grounding. “You can stay.”

Asahi shakes his head slowly. “You were hurt because of me,” he whispers. “I can’t make that right.”

“Argh!” Yuu bursts out. If he had his strength, he’d probably have pummelled Asahi. “You act like you know what’s best and no-one else _does!”_

“I don’t know anything,” Asahi mutters. His hand strokes over Yuu’s hair and Yuu’s heart flutters.

“You don’t need to know shit,” he retorts.

“I can’t…” Asahi’s hands hold him like he’s the most fragile thing in the world. It just makes Yuu madder. “I’m sorry.” His eyes squeeze shut and tears wet his lashes.

“Get the fuck out of here then,” Yuu manages to grit out.

Asahi’s eyes open wide, still beautiful, still hurt, still _fucking infuriating._ “But you…”

“I can take care of myself!” Yuu snaps, not caring whether it’s true or not right now. “If you’re planning to walk out on me, on us, don’t waste time! Either man up and stay, or go already!” He glares into Asahi’s eyes, willing him to see how much this means to him. How Yuu’s laying himself open to him. “Stay?”

For a moment, their eyes lock. Yuu can see the _Yes_ shining in Asahi’s eyes, can see it in every aching line of his face. His heart surges. The moment holds… and then it breaks. Asahi shakes his head, not hiding the tears that fall down his face. “I’m sorry.”

It’s like a knife in his chest. Yuu squeezes his eyes shut, hard. “Then go.”

“I…”

“Just _go_ already!”

“Let me at least help you up.”

“I don’t need helping up!”

Asahi ignores Yuu, getting his knees carefully under himself and then using his height to lift Yuu up, slowly and carefully, until he’s standing again. Of _fucking_ _course_ there’s _fucking blood_ on the floor and of _fucking course_ Asahi notices and he’s looking at it like it’s the freaking Zombie Apocalypse. His big, warm hands squeeze Yuu’s shoulders for an aching instant before letting go. Asahi’s eyes meet Yuu’s for a final moment, all big and teary and hurt, and then Asahi turns and stumbles away, snagging his shoes and not bothering to put them on before he runs out into the street.

Yuu’s cold, and he fucking _hurts_ , and he feels empty inside, like someone just stuck an ice-cream scoop in him and scooped everything out. He stares at the closed front door. Then he uses the heel of his socked foot to clean the blood off the flooring and shuffles off to bed. He’s ready for this day to be over.

* * *

Ryuu sighs as he heads out of the gym. He's sore, but not in the way that suggests that he had a good practice. No, that's when his abs are sore and his legs feel like they need to be stretched. Tonight he feels like everything is slightly to the left. His shoulder hurts. It feels like he had sand in the joint the entire night, his arm moving too slow, then too fast, and now he wants to lie down and give it a break.

Daichi tried to encourage him throughout the whole practice, after every bungled hit or shanked pass, but nothing helped. Although his attention was stretched: it was obvious that the rest of the team was feeling the absence of their libero, like there was a hole in the floor that everyone had been trying to ignore but was _there,_ broadcasting its presence.

Ryuu is lucky that it was only Daichi there. If there was a coach, he knows he would have been yelled at for not having his head in the game. Yelling might have been the smallest repercussion, maybe, if whatever coach they end up getting (if they get one) employs running penalties, to improve cardio at least if not technique.

He tried really hard to focus because it wasn't just Yuu's absence. As Karusuno's next ace, he feels the heat of the spotlight on him now that Asahi is also a missing presence. Usually, Ryuu's attitude is enough to fill the empty space left behind by the giant, but no amount of yelling or ripping off his shirt can replace the hole that Yuu has left.

Sitting at the bus stop, Ryuu sighs again, rubbing the back of his neck, grimacing at the sticky sweat still there. He can't believe that he worked hard enough to sweat tonight. It doesn't feel like he did. But he can smell it, the sweat and the scent of volleyballs sticking to his skin. He didn't do a very good job of wiping it off.

Out here in the cold night air, he can forget the miserable practice, but he can’t forget the hole in the team, and the reason for that hole being there. His gut twists every time he thinks of how _fragile_ Yuu looked last night, how fucking _small._ Nishinoya Yuu’s got a big personality, he can fire up a room just by being in it, energize an entire team with a word or a look. But yesterday…

The bus arrives and Ryuu climbs in, trying to stop thinking about last night. Ryuu’s never seen his firecracker friend like that before, helpless like a bird with a broken wing, and it makes the world feel funny, like nothing is quite right. When he alights from the bus, he jogs the short distance to Yuu’s house. He won’t rest until he can see Yuu for himself, be with him for a while, make sure the idiot is taking care of himself…

Yuu opens the door and Ryuu’s breath catches. He looks worse than he did yesterday – way worse. He’s grey like an old man, his eyes are hollow, and his gait as he moves back to let Ryuu in is awkward and unsteady. And his eyes are red and puffy. Has he been crying? “Hi…” Ryuu starts, then chokes as Yuu’s eyes quietly well with tears. Yuu doesn’t acknowledge that he’s crying at all, just lifts the back of his hand to blot the tears away. They well up again immediately. “Oh, man. Is the pain bad?” Ryuu whispers.

“No.” Yuu blots at his eyes with the back of his hand again.

“Okay, about-face, to your room, let Dr. Tanaka examine you.” He lets himself sound bossier than Neesan in an argument. Whether Yuu’s crying from pain or something else, he knows better than to get into an argument in a common area of the house. “No backtalk. Tanaka-senpai knows best,” he goads as he slips his shoes off.

“Whaat?” Yuu’s tears dry for an instant as he looks up at Ryuu. “Since when are you my senpai? Don’t go getting big ideas just because I’m under the weather!”

Ryuu absently shoots off some barb or another as he walks alongside Yuu, watching his friend’s shuffling gait. His gut twists. Yuu can’t help bowing his back a little, carefully putting one foot in front of the other with the stiffness of barely concealed pain. Ryuu aches to support him, but instead he slows his pace deliberately, innocently pulling up first one sock, then the other, then stopping for a moment to adjust his waistband, keeping pace with Yuu’s pained, slow steps.

When they’re in Yuu’s room, Ryuu’s just about had it. He commands, “Bed,” with all the fire of the dragon that’s his namesake. If he has to watch Yuu trying to move through his pain for a moment longer, he won’t be held responsible for his actions.

It’s a testament to how bad Yuu’s feeling that he meekly obeys. But then he stops, standing by the bed, looking down at it, as though he’s just been asked to climb a mountain. Ryuu’s heart clenches. Kid’s so hurt the simplest things are hard for him. Dammit all, anyway. “Let Dr. Tanaka help,” he announces breezily, stepping close and bracing an arm across Yuu’s chest for him to lean on. “That’s it, nice and easy.”

“I’m okay,” Yuu mutters, but he leans into Ryuu’s arm.

“Of course you are! Now listen to your senpai!” Ryuu bends as he supports Yuu down to get one knee on the mattress.

“You’re not—” Yuu’s breath hitches. He bites back a cry as Ryuu lowers him as gently and carefully as he possibly can, “—my senpai, dork.”

“Yeah.” Ignoring the way Yuu’s choked-off cry knifes through his own chest, Ryuu gets Yuu settled on the bed. He feels like he might burst with the feelings surging up in him, mostly how he wants to just _stop Yuu hurting already_ and _murder anyone who hurt him._ Then he stands back and gets a good look at his injuries.

“Oh—” Ryuu blurts at the sight, then cuts himself off before he says something dumb. It’s his job to keep Yuu cheerful, he won’t help him by breaking down. Ryuu knows, he _knows,_ from many injuries before, that oftentimes a bruise or cut will look worse the second day than it did when it was first sustained. But the tight, swollen, sausage-skin look of Yuu’s thighs, fluid all but visible underneath shiny, stretched skin, the swelling ridged with welts that are white and purple and still bleeding… No wonder the kid's in agony. His legs don’t look like normal legs at all. More like the edema things you see in hospitals. “Do your thighs feel tight?” he can’t help asking.

“Yeah,” Yuu admits, face half-smooshed into the pillow. “But you know how swelling is. It’ll go down.”

“Have you been using the ointments, Yuu?” Ryuu asks flatly, squatting on the floor and opening the pharmacy bag to count out the pills.

“Yeah. I used them last night.”

“You need to use them morning and night, man.” Ryuu doesn’t think he sounds bossy enough; he has a feeling he just sounds sad. He finishes counting out the tablets. “These are only missing two pills. You didn’t take them this morning.”

Yuu’s haggard face turns toward him. Dammit. He’s _still_ crying silently. “I can’t believe you counted my pills!”

“Believe it. You been drinking water?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh-huh.” Ryuu gets up from the floor. “I’m gonna go get you some water, and you’re gonna take the pills, and I’ll help you with the ointments, and then you’re gonna talk to me.”

“I’m not letting you touch my butt!” Yuu yells after him.

Ryuu grins, glad to see some of his old spirit back. “You better get yourself taken care of by the time I get back, then!”

When he gets back, true to his word, Yuu’s taken care of the ointments, except for one welt low down on his thighs that he’s having trouble reaching. Ryuu gently pats the cream into it, his touch as light as he knows how, watching to make sure he’s not causing pain. His rage flares again as he sees the place on the _side_ of Yuu’s leg where the tip of the lash whipped around and bit in. He can’t even imagine how much that must hurt, and he holds his breath as he pats the ointment in, wishing he could magic it all away. He wants to cry.

That job done, he gives Yuu the water and watches as he takes _all_ the pills, especially the pain meds. He’s not sure if Yuu is crying because he’s hurting or what, but dammit, seeing him cry is breaking Ryuu’s heart. “If you don’t start looking better in a week,” he says darkly, “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Ah, quit being dramatic. I don’t need a hospital.”

Ryuu lets his seriousness show in his face. “You want to make a full recovery so you can play volleyball again, don’t you?”

Yuu doesn’t answer.

Alarm spikes in Ryuu. “Hey! I’m talking about volleyball! You want to make a full recovery, get as well as you can be, right? Be the terror of the court once more?”

Yuu’s breath hitches and his face crumples. Before Ryuu’s eyes, his cheeks flush and he lets out a sob. “I—I’m not going to—to play volleyball anymore,” he chokes. Then he turns his face away from Ryuu, his shoulders shaking silently.

Ryuu chills. “What? Is there some damage I didn’t see? We can get it fixed!” He rushes around the bed to where Yuu’s facing, still with his face scrunched up and sobbing without a sound. “Yuu…” He touches his friend’s shoulder. “Tell me what’s wrong. It’s only been a day. They can fix anything now, they have surgeries for everything. Is it tendons? Nerves? Muscle? Come on, talk to me!”

Yuu shakes his head, eyes still shut. “Asahi-san came to see me today,” he chokes out.

“Ah…” Ryuu’s mind is still bouncing back and forth and he can’t understand or focus. “Okay. Yeah. Sorry I told him by accident, but there’s more important things to think about right now. So he came to see you. What’s that got to do with you not being able to play? Did you find something new we didn’t notice yesterday? Did he notice something we didn’t?”

Impossibly, Yuu’s face scrunches up even tighter. “He’s leaving the team,” he says quietly, and he sounds so broken, so defeated. And Nishinoya Yuu _never_ sounds defeated.

“Uh…” Ryuu’s mind hitches. “Yeah, he told me.” Who _cares?_ What’s _wrong_ with Yuu?

“If he’s not there,” Yuu says quietly, “I’m not coming back.”

Overwhelming relief surges through Ryuu, making him weak. He thuds down onto his butt on the floor, boneless. “Oh thank fuck,” he breathes. “I thought you were permanently damaged or—Shit, don’t scare me like that again, Yuu!”

Ryuu’s relief has startled Yuu out of his tears: he’s blinking, red-eyed, at Ryuu. “Sorry,” he says, looking a little less broken than before. “Wasn’t thinking how that sounded.”

“Ehh…” Ryuu laughs tensely and shakes his head. “I thought you meant… I thought you couldn’t play because your muscles or nerves or tendons were fucked up or something. Oh, god, I was scared. Shit. Don’t scare me like that again.” He takes a breath, taking in the sadness on Yuu’s face. “I thought it was because you were hurt too bad to get better. You’re pissed because you two broke up?”

That earns him an eyeroll. “We’ve been through this, Ryuu! Asahi-san and I are _not dating!”_

“We’ve _also_ been through where Asahi-san and you _look_ at each other like you’re confessing your love every day! You don’t see his _eyes_ when he looks at you, man! You mean,” Ryuu gives his best manly wink, “he was in your house and you didn’t say something? Neither of you confessed yet?”

The joke falls flat. It also takes whatever levity Ryuu managed to achieve and sinks it like a freaking lead balloon. Yuu’s eyes fill with fresh tears. “He’s _leaving,”_ he says. “He’s quitting the team. I—I almost begged him to stay, and he was just being _dumb.”_ His breath hitches. “So I’m not coming back, either.”

“Okay. Okay.” Ryuu takes a deep breath. Time for self-control, damage control, and whatever kind of control he can scrape up. He’s going to have Asahi’s head for making Yuu cry. “Look, you know the big lug’s sensitive, right? He probably saw you hurt and freaked out. Give him time. He’ll cool down.”

For the first time, Yuu looks thoughtful instead of devastated. “But he said he wasn’t coming back.”

“Yeah,” Ryuu puts on his most cheerful tone, “we all say shit we don’t mean sometimes.” He is going to _kill_ Asahi when he gets done being all strong and impartial for Yuu. “Doesn’t mean we mean it, because if we meant it it wouldn’t be shit we didn’t mean, would it? …shit, that sounded better in my head. What I mean is, you need to get strong and healthy so we can get you back on the court.”

“I’m not playing without him,” Yuu repeats.

Ryuu clenches his fists. “Yeah, you are.”

“No,” Yuu closes his eyes, “I’m not.”

Ryuu opens his mouth to yell, then shuts it. He knows better than to get into a pissing contest with Yuu. Shit, though. That’s all Yuu needs, to give up on fucking getting better. He really is going to bitchslap Asahi next time he sees him.

He looks at the stubborn set of Yuu’s jaw, his pallor, how hurt and vulnerable he is when he’s usually a human spark of energy, and does a bit of quick thinking. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. Just one thing.”

Yuu’s eyes are still closed. “Yeah?”

“What if he _does_ change his mind and come back? When he cools off?”

There’s a long pause. Then Yuu’s eyes blink open. Ryuu waits. Eventually, Yuu says, "I never thought of that."

“Yeah,” says Ryuu. “We’ll need to be ready if – when – he does come back.”

“I… I guess so… But he said…”

“Yeah, we’ve been through this. Doesn’t matter what he said. You need to do your best to get better, get healthy again, because before you know it he’ll be walking through that door again, and how will we support him if we’re out of practice? If you’re not recovered?”

Crisis averted. Yuu’s back to looking thoughtful. “He _was_ pretty upset…”

“Yeah! And you know how he likes to blame himself for everything. So we need to – uh, to stand behind him as a team,” _like the emo bitch he is,_ “take some of the weight off his shoulders. Get you fighting fit again. First years should be trying out any day now, maybe get some new blood in the team, let him feel like he’s not alone. That we’ve got his back. And that means you getting _better._ ”

“And working on my block-follow…” Yuu says thoughtfully. “I might know a ladies’ team I can practice with…” He trails off, visibly thinking hard. “If I get my block-follow to be stronger, I can give better support…”

Ryuu sags with relief – inside, of course. “Yeah. So we can have his back.” _Like he_ **_didn’t_ ** _have Yuu’s, the big wimp._

But his self-control is all worth it when Ryuu sees Yuu’s fist curl up in determination. “Yeah. That’s true.”

“So can we count on our libero getting better soon?”

“Yeah.” Yuu lets out a huge yawn. “Sorry…”

“No, you get your rest.” Ryuu slings an arm around Yuu’s shoulders and moves in close for a cuddle. A manly cuddle, of course. “Get some sleep. That’s an order from Dr. Tanaka!”

Yuu frowns like a _fucking_ sleepy kitten. “This is because of those pills you gave me!”

Ryuu pulls Yuu’s head down into the crook of his neck – carefully, mindful that he’s hurt – and uses the hand on the opposite side to ruffle his hair. “Sleep is good. I’ll be right here till you drop off.”

He feels Yuu nestle closer to him, his hair brushing Ryuu’s cheek. “Ryuu?” he whispers.

God, Yuu sounds so soft, so vulnerable. Dammit, but their firecracker Noya _never_ sounds like this. Ryuu has to swallow before he answers. “Yeah?”

Yuu’s arm comes up slowly to curl around Ryuu. “Thanks.”

Damn, his heart’s so full right now it might burst out of the room. He shifts closer and presses a manly smooch to the crown of Yuu’s head. “You just…” His voice catches, for absolutely no reason, and he has to try again. “Just get better. I’ll be by tomorrow night. Dr. Tanaka making another house call. We Tanakas are well-known for our house calls…”

He keeps up a patter of meaningless nonsense until Yuu’s breathing evens out and he relaxes into sleep. Then he slips out of the embrace, gets to his knees, and carefully pulls the covers up over his sleeping friend. “You’ll get better,” he whispers, a promise. Unable to resist, he leans in close and presses a kiss to the top of Yuu’s head. “Never deserved any of that shit,” he mutters as he strokes his hair. “But you’ll be good as new. Take care of you. I’ll come over every night!” he announces, although Yuu’s asleep and can’t hear him. “Not taking any shit! You’re taking care of yourself whether you like it or not…” His flame burns out and his shoulders slump. “Sleep well, Yuu. Get better,” he whispers before letting himself out.

* * *

“Azumane-san.”

Asahi turns at the sound of his name and immediately finds Tanaka Ryuunosuke in his face, looking a lot like he’s about to breathe fire. “Uh, yeah?”

Tanaka-kun takes a deep breath through clenched teeth. “You can be a drama queen as much as you like on your own time,” he hisses. “But one thing you are _not allowed to do_ is mess up Noya-san.”

Asahi’s heart thuds. “Noya-san… What happened? Is he okay?”

“He’s okay _now,_ no thanks to you. I went to see him after you left the other day. Found him crying his eyes out and giving up on fucking getting better because _you_ told him you weren’t coming back to the team!”

“Oh, man.” Asahi covers his eyes with his hand. Not only did he get Noya-san hurt, but he’s still hurting him, even when he’s trying to help. He forces himself to look back at Tanaka-kun. “How is he?”

“He’s okay for now, _because_ I managed to convince him that Your Royal Highness was going to change their mind and come back to the team. He _didn’t want to get better,_ Azumane-san, _you hear me?_ You know what he said? “If Asahi-san doesn’t come back to the team, I’m not going to play volleyball again.”

“I…” But Noya-san _loves_ volleyball! He’s an award-winning libero! “That must be a… a mistake or…”

“Nope. That’s how much you mean to him, you big dope. If you don’t come back, he’s going to quit the team. But that’s not all…” Tanaka-kun shakes his head and huffs out a breath. “He thought there was _no reason to get better!_ I had to tell him no, Asahi-san’s going to change his mind, give him time to cool off, he’s just going through a slump.”

“But I…”

“Look. I don’t give a fuck what you do or don’t do. But you better not set back his recovery, that’s all.”

“I wouldn’t dream of setting back his recovery,” Asahi says, and that’s the truth.

“Good.” Tanaka-kun steps closer, into Asahi’s space, far closer than is courteous. “You know that in sports, in healing, mental attitude is half the battle.” Asahi nods hurriedly. “And I swear to everything that’s holy, you need to get the _fuck_ over yourself, because _nobody_ is going to mess with my boy’s getting a hundred percent better, you got that?”

Asahi gives as much of a bow as he can in the tight space. He won’t lie, though. “I don’t… I’m not an asset to the team…”

“I don’t _GIVE_ a fuck!” Tanaka-kun bursts out. “Be an asset or don’t be an asset – like yeah, we need our ace, but that is _not_ the problem right now! _My_ problem is a little brother with his legs torn up in so much pain he can’t fucking _walk_ and in danger of not making a full recovery because he’s grieving for _you!_ So you better keep that shit to yourself until he’s back on his feet again, or I swear to every god there is, I won’t be held responsible!”

Asahi nods once. _Even my decisions to stay away end up hurting people,_ he thinks as Tanaka-kun storms away. His heart aches. He’s got Noya-san hurt, hurt _bad._ Best to just focus on his studies. _Stay away. It’ll be better for everyone._

* * *

Despite his resolution to stay away, Asahi can’t resist cornering Tanaka-kun a couple of days later after classes, as Tanaka’s on his way to practice. “How is he?” he asks without preamble. He’s more nervous than he should be when addressing a kouhai, but Tanaka’s never been a stickler for hierarchy. Asahi isn’t entirely sure he won’t get slammed up against the wall again.

Tanaka-kun doesn’t seem disposed to violence. He is curt, though. “You have his number. Ask him.”

“Tanaka-kun, _please.”_ Asahi figures he has perhaps ten seconds to get through to Tanaka before he storms off. “You said to stay away from him! I don’t want to hurt him. I just want to know how he’s doing? Please?”

Tanaka stops, eyeing Asahi. Then he sighs gustily and his shoulders slump. “He’s doing okay. Still healing up.” He gestures with both hands. “You know our Noyassan. Fireworks and explosions 24/7. Gotta sit on him to get some rest and take care of himself. Can’t even walk straight and already talking about going to practice with some older ladies’ league. I told him to at least wait two weeks.”

“I saw his legs,” Asahi blurts, then squeezes his eyes shut in shame. It’s all his fault. If they hadn’t had that fight… If he hadn’t left Noya and walked away…

There’s a snap of fingers in front of his face. “…hey.” He opens his eyes to see Tanaka-kun looking at him soberly. “You don’t need to tell me how bad it looks. We’re taking care of it. I go by there every day and if he doesn’t improve you bet your _ass_ I’m taking him to a clinic. I won’t settle for him being back any less than a hundred percent and he’s not gonna settle for less either. Got a fire lit under him already. Don’t worry, Azumane-san, okay? We got this.”

It’s Asahi’s turn to sigh. He looks down, then lets his gaze flicker up briefly. “Can I… ask you about him? Sometimes? Just to…” He gives a helpless little shrug. “To, uh…”

Tanaka claps Asahi’s shoulder. “Yeah, okay.” He huffs. “Think about coming back to the team. – _Don’t_ answer me,” he warns when Asahi opens his mouth. “Just think about it.”

 _I don’t have to think about it,_ Asahi says to himself as he watches Tanaka-kun’s retreating back. _I’m not going back to the team. Not after what happened. Never._

* * *

He’s adamant when Sugawara-san approaches him. Suga’s the most decent and respectful person Asahi knows, but… He _can’t._ He’s caused so much damage already. He can’t get Noya-san’s wide, hurt eyes out of his mind.

( _He was only hurt because you said you weren’t coming back.)_

He ignores the intrusive thought. Noya-san probably doesn’t even want Asahi back on the team, doesn’t want to see him, doesn’t want to be anywhere near him. Not with the mess he’s made of things. He failed them and now he’s run away. _Real mature, Asahi. Way to step up to your responsibilities._

He lowers his head to his textbook. He’d better focus on his studies. They’re all he’s got left.

* * *

Ryuu’s mad as hell and that’s a fact.

It’s been two weeks since all that shit went down. The first week was a week of dropping by Yuu’s house every day to make sure he was taking his meds and using his ointments and not moving about too much when he was still dizzy, and comforting him and keeping him cheerful. Then a few days after that, it was watching his healing like a hawk and sitting on him going stir crazy and making sure he was not about to rush out to this ladies’ league he keeps talking about. A week of having to be the sensible one, and damn but Ryuu _hates_ being the sensible one. It was only made slightly better when, a few days in, Ryuu managed to scrounge up a frilly white dress from a girlfriend and gave Yuu hysterics when he showed up in it, complete with corset, “because no wounded warrior should be without a pretty nurse.”

(That corset was _damn_ uncomfortable, too, but it made Yuu laugh, and hell, he'd wear the goddam thing every day for a year if it meant Yuu would get better faster. This shitty thing happening has made Ryuu realize that his greatest fear - that something might happen to Saeko - was only half the truth. He didn't know before that he'd gladly go through anything, put up with anything, to keep Nishinoya Yuu safe and well and happy and healthy, but now he does. He never knew he had a brother till this lousy, miserable incident, but what do you know? Turns out he does.)

By the time the week’s suspension was over and he could go back to school, although there was still a ways to go, it was clear that Yuu would eventually fully heal. The swelling was going down and the welts were scabbing over, although the rainbow of bruising looked to be sticking around for a while longer, and there was no sitting on Yuu for any longer than that. “If I have to suffer through class, at least I should get to play,” was his argument, and since then, he’s been disappearing after school to train God only knows where. Ryuu is fine with it, as long as he takes care of himself. He cut down a pair of Neesan’s old yoga pants she wore when she was like twelve for Yuu to wear under his uniform so he’d have soft cotton touching his healing skin at all times, he hangs out with him at lunch breaks, keeping him updated on the club news – they have four new first years, two of whom seem completely insane, spending about as much time fighting each other as they do playing, and two others who might actually be good – and other gossip.

“Asahi-san hasn’t come back, has he,” Yuu says quietly one day, face down in his bento box.

Ryuu chokes, then swallows. “Not yet!” he chirps. He takes a drink of water. “I bet he’s—”

“He’s a _wimp,”_ Yuu mutters bitterly. “Fucking coward.”

Ryuu takes another drink of water. There’s nothing to say to that.

(Azumane-san spoke to him just yesterday. “I just wanted to know… how he’s doing,” he said lamely.

“He’s taking it hard that you haven’t come back,” Ryuu told him bluntly.

“I…” Azumane-san fixed him with those damned sad eyes again, like the guy was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. His long hair was flopping about in its loose bun with the way he was shaking his head. “I can’t come back.”

“You mean you _won’t_ come back,” Ryuu snapped, fed up. “I don’t believe you don’t care about volleyball anymore. It was one defeat! Get the hell over it. Nobody blames you!”

“You _should!”_

Ryuu remembers how he growled in frustration. “We _don’t!_ I don’t, Daichi-san doesn’t, Suga-san doesn’t. And Noya-san sure as hell doesn’t.” Well, that’s half true. “The only thing he blames you for is _walking away.”_

“I’m no use to the team,” Azumane-san said evenly. Sounded like he believed it too, dumb bunny. “There’s no point in me coming back.”

“There’s a point in not breaking Noya’s heart,” Ryuu blurted before he realized he’d said it.

He was apologizing and bowing even as Azumane-san gave a soft, startled inhale. “Sorry. That was out of line.” And he turned and hurried away.)

“I’m not playing in matches if he doesn’t come back,” Yuu whispers.

Ryuu blinks, but he knows enough to keep his mouth shut. “Mhm.”

Yuu looks down at his lunch again. “I’ll come and practice with you guys. But…” He seems to be searching for words, although all Ryuu can see is the top of his head. “I don’t want to be part of a win he’s not part of.” He pauses. When he speaks again, his voice is so _small._ “I don’t want to win if he’s not there.”

Ryuu feels his vision wash to red as his hands curl into fists. If it wouldn’t upset Yuu, he’d make those fists around Azumane’s _neck._

* * *

There’s something about that first-year duo, the silent dark one and the bright little one by his side, that twists Asahi’s chest. “Why do you want me?” he asks. “You’ve never even played with me.”

“Because if you don’t come back,” the little redhead says adamantly, “our upperclassmen will be demoralized!”

_There’s a point in not breaking Noya’s heart._

Asahi says something, makes some excuse. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying. He just wants to get away.

* * *

Tanaka-kun approaches him. “You know he’s talking about not playing in matches anymore. Because you’re not there.”

Asahi chokes. “I don’t… I never asked him to…”

“No, you didn’t. But he just cares that fucking much,” Tanaka snarls. “You better get your head together, soon.”

He stalks off.

* * *

The first-years come back. Why does that not surprise him? It feels like he should be surprised, considering the fact that not a lot of first years feel comfortable approaching him. Maybe it’s the echo of another little guy, a powerhouse of energy, who _doesn’t give up._ Whom Asahi hasn’t seen in a long time… or what feels like a long time.

And there’s something about the way the shortie sticks so close to the sullen one’s side… Asahi feels a little embarrassed. He feels like he should know their names, but he can’t remember if they told him last time. Shortie’s eyes sparkle, and then... and _then._ “Now that I have this guy tossing to me…” He looks sidelong up at his setter, and oh, the way his face shines with barely contained excitement, like bottled sunshine… “the view on the other side of the net opens up...”

With those words, it’s like a gulf opens up in front of him, vast and endless, but it isn’t scary. Asahi feels like he can breathe for the first time in a long while. The first year continues to talk, Asahi registering the words almost absently, but also hanging onto them greedily: the heft of the ball in his hand, the court on the other side of the net. The view from the top.

Shortie’s passion is infectious and Asahi can _see it._ He can _feel_ it. The rush of a quick approach, coiling everything up, arms swinging back, the rush of jumping, the way his stomach tenses just before he starts to hit, his hands already pulled back. Then, that moment when the court opens up in front of him. It’s like time is standing still. He can see the top of the net, hands belonging to strangers attempting to block his view, but Asahi can see them. He can see them and there’s nothing that can stop him, he can see all the way through. “I know the feeling well,” he hears himself say, not sure if he interrupted the first-year or not.

It’s intoxicating, being up at the summit and being able to see. He can still see it, feel the anticipation clench in his gut, the feeling of being unstoppable. Then, just as quick, his view is gone, the Date Tech blockers looming over him. All he can see is the wall and he feels so small. He forces that out of his mind, the good feeling in his stomach souring and leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He had that once, the open court, but he doesn’t anymore.

The short one is talking about something, but Asahi finds his attention drawn to his quiet friend. Maybe sullen is more accurate, although he doesn’t seem unpleasant. Maybe that’s just his face. He’s watching his short friend talk, leaning toward him although he’s standing tall on his own, like the words the little one is saying give him strength.

The redhead's passion is still infectious though, stoking the flames in Asahi’s heart. Or attempting to. Asahi can recognize that the taller guy is choosing to let his friend speak, not because he isn’t as moved as the smaller guy--Asahi can see the fire in his eyes--but it reminds Asahi of the times that he would let Noya speak, let him do the talking. Especially when Noya was needed to handle a situation where he had to reach out to someone else, especially when he needed someone more brave, especially when he needed someone more daring...

When he needed someone who’s not afraid to fail.

The bell rings and the first-year duo walk off, bickering. But then the silent dark one turns back. “You don’t win alone,” he says. “That’s just the way it is.” 

A lump forms in Asahi’s throat. That’s advice he’s heard and even given over the years, but it’s so much easier to say when the team isn’t at your back, expecting you to break through the wall and you failing over and over again. 

Asahi watches them walk off. The way he walked away from Nishinoya-kun. The way he walked away from him and made him get hurt…

He whips around and strides back into class. Everything’s whirling in his mind and he feels like he can’t breathe. _Now I have this guy tossing to me._ The light in the little redhead’s eyes. _The other side of the net opens up. The heft of the ball, snug in my palm._ The way it felt to be on the court. _I know the feeling well_ . Wide, betrayed eyes watching Asahi say goodbye. _There’s a point to not breaking Noya’s heart._

The class is about _something,_ but he has no idea what it is.

* * *

Daichi catches him lurking around the gym. He’s so dismissive of Asahi saying he’s lost face with Noya and Suga that Asahi maybe, maybe believes him. “They have big hearts,” Daichi said with a simple grin, like it was that easy. Like it could ever be that easy. Daichi doesn’t _know_. He doesn’t know that Asahi’s carelessness got Noya hurt. He doesn’t know that Asahi can’t forgive himself.

 _They have big hearts._ Asahi hears ‘too forgiving.’

 _There’s a point to not breaking Noya’s heart._ Asahi hears ‘you’ve finally reached the limits of his kindness.’

 _He’s talking about not playing in matches anymore. Because you’re not there._ Asahi hears ‘even when you’re not here, you’re hurting him.’

He sits alone on a hillside, thinking. _If you still like volleyball… that’s reason enough to come back._ It’s not. Asahi knows it isn’t that easy. It doesn’t matter what he wants, what matters is that he hurt Noya. It doesn’t matter that the tiny first year’s speech has left him aching to at least see the court again...

He might just… pass by the gym… just to see their faces… from a distance…

* * *

“ASAHI-SAAAAAAN!”

Asahi freezes in the headlights of the redhead’s enthusiastic shriek. _This guy again!!!_ What’s his name, anyway? Dammit, there’s a blond guy in a red tracksuit who looks older, _must be a new coach?_ Already looking out the door and fixing his eyes on Asahi. He looks mean. “You’re late. Who do you think you are? What position do you play?”

“W-wing spiker…”

“We’re short of players! Get changed, chop chop!”

It’s that simple. It really is. Asahi won’t deny that he’s missed it. The squeak of gym shoes, the smell of the place… But as he walks in, he doesn’t meet Noya-san’s eyes. He can’t. He can’t see the accusation and disdain he knows will be there.

He watches as Suga-san talks to Noya, both of them dependable, both of them strong. People you can rely on. Ditching them for a month, then slinking back, only out here because the blond in the tracksuit (is he a coach?) scares him. Getting Nishinoya hurt.

But now, he’s right here on the court, and it’s all coming back. Everything Noya-san said. _I keep the ball in the air. It’s not your place to give up._

The sounds of the gym are still filtering through the memory of Noya-san’s voice. _I don’t care if your spikes don’t score. I would never blame you in the least._ The anger that Asahi didn’t realize was desperation.

_But I won’t stand for you giving up so selfishly._

Someone’s calling out. “Hinata, you serve next!”

_Don’t you want to spike and score again?_

“That’s what I want!” Asahi hears his own voice call out. He didn’t mean to say that! But it’s out now.

Everyone looks toward him. He swallows, embarrassed. But there’s no going back now. “No matter how many times I fail,” he declares to the gym, “I still want to spike.”

“Then I’m fine,” comes a voice from behind Asahi. It’s Nishinoya, and the warmth in his tone fills Asahi’s bones. Asahi turns.

It’s the first time he’s looked into Nishinoya Yuu’s eyes since he walked away from him in that corridor. _Since he got him hurt. Since he abandoned him._ Noya-san’s big hazel eyes are star-bright, boring into his center, seeing into his heart.

And Noya _smiles. Shit his smile is fucking incandescent._ “Now that you said that,” he grins, “I’m fine.”

Asahi’s jaw drops. But then the moment’s gone and they’re playing again.

The rest of the match passes in a blur. Everyone’s voices come together as Asahi gradually, but surely, gathers up the threads of his unraveled confidence. Some moments stand out: Nishinoya yelling, “Even if the ball bounces off the wall, I’ll still keep it in play. So call for a toss again, ace!” The memory of the dark-haired little first year – Kageyama – saying, “You don’t win alone. That’s just how it is.” The realization that _he’s not alone._

And eventually, it takes a while… but he can see again. He leaps up high above the net… and he spikes the ball into the _fucking floor._

* * *

Noya-san doesn’t cut him any slack. “You didn’t jump at all. That’s because you’ve been ditching for a month.” Suga makes some crack about Noya being a strict taskmaster, but Asahi’s not really paying much attention. Noya-san keeps needling him, and Asahi’s glad to be back. He’s also glad to finally get to have a friendly chat with the crazy new guy – Hinata, his name is Hinata – his quick is freaky, for sure, but he’s so friendly and welcoming – and isn’t that weird, that the _new guy_ is welcoming Asahi back to his _own team?_ But Asahi’s just glad to be part of the lineup, glad to be there.

It’s after eight PM when they leave the gym. The neighborhood association guys are chatting and laughing with each other, one of them jokingly quoting Dark Hair – no, wait, his name’s Kageyama: “‘As long as I’m here, you’re invincible!’ I wish I had someone to tell _me_ that!” Asahi’s glad the darkness hides his blush. He _had_ someone like that – Nishinoya-san – who believed in him, who kept the ball in play, the steadfast guardian watching his back. And he threw it all away like a prize idiot, got Noya-san hurt, walked away from him and let him get— let him— Asahi cringes from the thought, remembering how he looked that day.

“Azumane-san?”

Asahi stills. He knows that voice. Hasn’t heard it after club since… that day they had the fight in the equipment room. Well, not unless you count that disastrous meeting at Noya-san’s house. His chest aches to hear him so formal, but at least he’s talking to Asahi. He turns. He tries to smile, but his heart’s a drumbeat in his chest, looking into those intense eyes. “U—ah,” he manages.

“Will you walk with me to the bus stop? I think we need to talk,” says Noya-san, so respectful, so formal still.

“Yes, we do!” Asahi blurts hurriedly. “I mean, yes. Let’s.”

Noya-san waves goodbye to Tanaka-kun, who is loudly declaring his intention to go and do something fun that doesn’t involve seeing his teammates’ faces for several hours. “Get out of here! And don’t let me see your ugly mugs till tomorrow morning!” he instructs.

Inexplicably, Noya-san’s intense eyes soften. “Good night, Ryuu.”

“Tanaka-kun’s a good guy,” Asahi finds himself saying as he falls into step next to Noya-san.

“The _best,”_ Noya-san agrees fervently. “He’s a good friend.”

“Yes, he is.” Asahi couldn’t agree more. But he doesn’t want to get into the whys of that, as bound up as they are with recent events. Instead, he changes the subject. “Hinata-kun seems really nice.”

“Hinata Shouyou? He’s amazing! Works his ass off. He calls me senpai! And did you see his quick?”

“It was _something_ ,” Asahi says honestly. “Him and the first-year setter. Kageyama-kun, right?”

“Uh huh.” They turn a corner and head down a busier street. “He doesn’t talk much, but he’s pretty amazing too. All he ever does is practice, him and Shouyou.”

“He seemed mad at Hinata-kun today,” Asahi ventures. It’s easier to gossip about their teammates, somehow, than talk about uncomfortable subjects. “When he got hit by that ball.”

Nishinoya-san looks sidelong up at Asahi, meeting his eyes. There’s a wicked smile on his face. “He wasn’t really mad at him. Friends just yell at you when you’re being an idiot.”

“I’m sorry!” Asahi blurts.

“You should be,” Noya-san mutters. He glances up at Asahi again, quick and sidelong and sharp. “But I forgive you.”

“You shouldn’t forgive me!” Asahi cries out. “I got you _hurt!”_

“Oh shit, not _again!”_ Noya-san explodes, drawing the stares of some late-evening commuters. “When are you gonna realize that not everything is your fault?”

“But it _is_ my fault. I should have stayed and listened to you.” Asahi looks around at the shop-windows, at the passing traffic, as if it could somehow help. “I…” He sighs. “I let my insecurities get in the way of… of everything. I’m sorry.”

They walk on in silence. “I begged you to stay,” Noya says quietly.

“I’m sorry. I would never leave you.”

“You _did_ leave me.”

“And I got you _hurt_.”

“Fuck this shit.” Noya stops in the middle of the road. “Asahi-san, you mean more to me than volleyball.”

Asahi blinks. Something starts up behind his breastbone, like a whirlwind, or a tsunami. “Uh…”

“I was going to quit volleyball,” Noya says in the same quiet tone. “I couldn’t stand it. When you weren’t there.”

“Tanaka-kun told me,” Asahi’s mouth volunteers without him choosing to.

“Tanaka-kun’s _still_ got a big mouth,” Noya shakes his head. “I told him not to tell anyone about that shit with the principal. I guess he thought it didn’t apply to you. I knew you’d take it hard.”

“Of course I took it hard!” Asahi bursts out. “How did you think _anyone_ who cares about you would take it? That’s—it should never have happened to you. If it _had_ to happen…” Asahi tries to stop the words, but they won’t stay in. “…I wish it had been me instead of you.”

Noya flinches like Asahi’s hit him. “Nope.” He turns away jerkily. “Don’t say stuff like that. I don’t like it.”

“I’m sorry,” Asahi says reflexively. He pauses. “But I do wish that.”

“I sure don’t!” Noya snaps. “It won’t make me happy for you to get hurt!”

“Well,” Asahi retorts, “I couldn’t stand it when _you_ got hurt.”

“If you care so much,” Noya sounds genuinely confused, “why did you _leave me?”_

Asahi’s a little shocked at how vulnerable Noya’s making himself. It doesn’t seem like him. “I never meant to leave _you,”_ he says. “It was…” He gives a helpless shrug. “I felt like I was holding you guys back. And then when I saw you hurt,” he confesses, “I kind of lost my mind, a little. It was so bad. I couldn’t see past that it happened because of our fight in the hallway, because I walked away from you and left you to face the music alone. I… didn’t feel I deserved to… to be your friend anymore.”

“So you were feeling bad because you walked away, and your solution to that was to walk away?” Noya meets Asahi’s eyes with a wry grin.

Asahi shrugs. “I know it was stupid. I’m sorry.”

The grin drops off Noya’s face, and his dark eyes are wide. “You really hurt my feelings.”

Asahi’s heart aches. “I honestly am sorry.” He swallows. “It’s not that I don’t care. Please don’t think that.”

“I care, too. A lot.” Noya’s eyes are boring into Asahi’s face, intense. “Do you understand what I mean when I say you mean more to me than volleyball?”

Asahi’s breath catches. He’s never dared admit it, the spark, the pull. But he’s felt it, binding them together like a gravitational field, drawing him irresistibly to orbit around the star that is Nishinoya Yuu. But he’s not a bright star; he’s a simple dirt planet hoping to soak up some of the heat he gives off, caught helplessly in his orbit. He’s nothing like Nishinoya. There’s no reason Noya-san would want to orbit _him. You mean more to me than volleyball._ It could mean… But it _can’t._

Asahi swallows and clears his throat. He can’t find words. He shouldn’t presume. “A-uh…”

“Do _I_ mean more to _you_ than volleyball?”

“You’re everything.” Damn Asahi’s mouth, saying stuff without his mind processing it first! He didn’t _mean_ to say that, it just… slipped out.

But Noya’s soft indrawn breath makes him think saying it wasn’t a mistake, after all. “Ryuu thinks we should be dating,” Noya says, his trademark grin starting to take shape. “Do you think he’s full of shit?”

“No!” Asahi says at once. Then he thinks about what he’s said, feeling his face turn red. “Uh, that is, I mean…”

“You don’t think he’s full of shit?” There’s still that sly grin. “Or you don’t think we should be dating?”

“You could do so much better.” What the hell, mouth? It’s not _untrue,_ it’s just _disconcerting_ to be saying all this stuff he didn’t plan to say.

“Than _you?”_ Noya lets out a disbelieving chuff of laughter. “You’re _perfect.”_

Asahi suddenly forgets how to swallow. “Gwah. I’m. Not. What?” He shakes his head. “You’re the one who’s perfect.” Oh crap, his mouth is _still_ running independently of his brain. He’ll do well to come out of this conversation without completely humiliating himself.

But Noya-san just preens. “Perfect, huh!” There’s that blinding grin again. “So if you’re perfect and I’m perfect, what would you say if I kissed you?”

Asahi’s eyes dart around. “Uhh… Not in the street…”

Noya chuckles. “Of course not in the street, ya big perfect goof. Will you come to my house?”

Asahi feels himself flush. “Y-your house?”

“Yeah. You just said it. I was hurt. I’m recovering.” Noya stops and this time, his sidelong glance at Asahi is positively wicked. “Maybe I need a massage. Maybe I need you to kiss it better.”

Asahi chokes. All the blood in his body rushes to his face. He’s misheard, he must have misheard… “W-what?”

“You heard me.”

“I… gwah… Uh…”

And Noya – _Nishinoya Yuu_ – reaches out and threads his fingers through Asahi’s. _Reaches out and threads his fingers through Asahi’s._

Warmth races through Asahi’s entire body, like curling up in front of a warm fire on a winter night, like seeing the other side of the net open up. Like a light in the window after a long journey home. His first impulse is to raise Noya’s hand to his lips and kiss it. But they’re in the _public street._ “Ah…” He swallows. “M-maybe your house isn’t such a bad idea.”

“At last you’re making sense!” Noya smiles, brilliant and blinding like the heart of a star. Asahi basks in the glow of his light. Against all odds, this star wants to be with _him._ Hands interlaced, they walk toward the bus stop.

* * *

_Epilogue 1_

“Tanaka-kun?”

Ryuu turns from where he’s been about to walk out the door. Practice is over and everyone’s gone on ahead; he’s just now exiting the equipment room. It’s dark outside. “A word in private, please?”

He walks back to Takeda-sensei and Ukai-san, wondering nervously what he’s done now. “Of course,” he says with his trademark cocky grin. “What’s up?”

Takeda-sensei clears his throat. Then he stammers and his words seem to dry up. It’s Coach Ukai who speaks. “Takeda-sensei,” he says, “was wondering if everything is all right… with Nishinoya-kun, at home.”

“At home?” Ryuu feels a frown forming. His head gives a little involuntary shake. He can’t imagine why they’d be asking. “It’s, uh, fine, I guess? Nothing’s wrong, not that I know of?”

The adults’ faces darken. Whatever the answer was, this is clearly the wrong one. “Tanaka-kun,” says Takeda-sensei gently. “I asked you instead of asking Noya-kun directly so that he would not lose face. Please be honest with me.”

Ryuu is lost. “Uh… I’m sorry? I really don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“Oh, come on,” Ukai-san huffs. “You’re his _best friend.”_

“It’s, um…” Takeda-sensei clears his throat. “I always assumed the bruises were, well, Ukai-kun tells me that part of a libero’s job is repeatedly hitting the floor and that it’s quite normal for him to be black and blue all the time. But today, Ukai-kun and I noticed something we found disturbing.”

Ryuu’s heart sinks. _Oh, shit, they didn’t…?_

“His shorts rode up,” Ukai raps out. “And we saw the marks.”

“M-marks?” Ryuu remembers Noya saying _Takeda-sensei can’t know._ “What marks?” He gives his best innocent stare, the one he always used to give Neesan. Doesn’t work any better on Take-chan than it did on her.

“Those marks are unmistakable, Tanaka-kun,” Takeda-sensei says softly, “and I find it very difficult to believe that you know nothing about them.”

“I, uh…” Ryuu rubs the back of his neck. “I…”

“Look, Tanaka-kun.” Coach Ukai folds his arms over his chest. “God knows, when _I_ was sixteen, I thought the adults around me were way dumber than they actually were. And I’m sure you kids are smart. Probably smarter than us in a lot of ways. But we’re not _idiots,_ Tanaka-kun. We know the scars from a,” he swallows, “a brutal whipping when we see them.” He swallows again, hard. It’s the first time Ryuu’s seen Ukai-san visibly uncomfortable. “That dark color… that indicates a beating with a—a massive amount of force.” He looks sick.

“Both Ukai-kun and I were very disturbed to see it. And we don’t want anyone hurting Noya-kun like that,” Takeda-sensei jumps in. “So if he’s… If there’s something going on at home… We only want to help.”

“I know a lot of families, the traditional ones, still think that kind of thing is okay.” Ukai’s face is impassive. “But it’s not. Not to us. And not to one of our own.”

“We don’t want to embarrass him,” Take-chan says softly.

“We’ve no issue taking it up with _him,_ you know.” Ukai tilts his head. “We just figured we’d ask you first.”

Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Ryuu feels his shoulders slump. “Okay,” he says. “It’s not what you think.”

Takeda-sensei’s eyes widen. “How can it _possibly_ not be what we think?”

“Well. It is what you think,” Ryuu stammers. “But it’s not _who_ you think.” Oh, that was smooth, Tanaka, real smooth. “It’s uh. Someone else.”

Ryuu has never appreciated just how scary Takeda-sensei and Ukai-san could be until now when they’re both staring him down, impassive. Well, mainly Ukai-san, really. Take-chan is too sweet to really be scary. Still, Ryuu finds himself sweating and runs a finger around his collar. “Uh. I uh.”

“Do you really want us asking Nishinoya-kun to explain it?” Ukai asks.

That does it. He won’t put Yuu through that humiliation. “Fine. It was the Principal.”

There’s dead silence. The adults clearly are not registering what he’s said.

“The bruises,” Ryuu waves his hands, “they really _are_ from volleyball. He puts stuff on them and they heal. He’s just that dedicated. It’s the other thing. Back when, uh. A month ago, when he was suspended. You know what happened, Ta-takeda-sensei?”

Through his puzzled frown, Takeda-sensei nods slowly. “As I understand it, there was an altercation with another student, he jostled the Vice-Principal and school property was destroyed. I know Nishinoya-kun isn’t a violent person, so my thought was that it was an accident of some sort.”

Ryuu drags in a breath and holds it for a long moment before releasing it, remembering that night and the days that followed. “Yeah, well. He didn’t mean to. That much is true.” He shrugs, trying to appear strong. “The Principal was watching. He decided to… when he saw…” But then Ryuu finds himself having to pause for a moment to collect himself as it floods over him again. _Yuu stumbling into the club room, looking small and hurt. Shaking, crying. Bleeding._

Ukai’s jaw has dropped, his eyes wide. There’s a little frown line between his brows and he’s shaking his head slowly, minutely. But Take-chan is still looking puzzled at Ryuu, waiting for him to finish.

“He suspended him.” Ryuu’s going to have to get this said somehow. “But he didn’t just suspend him. Katashi-sensei, I mean.” Take-chan’s still staring uncomprehending at him. “He uh. It’s illegal. But you know it happens all over. There’s no penalty for it anyway.”

A small sound escapes Coach Ukai, barely a vocalized breath. But Takeda is still _not fucking getting it_ and Ryuu’s going to have to _say it._ “Ah, shit! He beat him with a cane, Take-chan! The principal fucking whipped him! That’s what the scars are from!”

There’s a long moment of silence. Ukai grits his teeth and frowns like he’s in pain, but he doesn’t say a word. Ryuu realizes he’s been cussing in front of them, but neither of them moves to reproach him.

A night-bird cries outside as they stand staring at each other. Takeda-sensei’s chest is rising and falling rapidly. Other than that, he’s perfectly still. “When was this?” he asks, his voice eerily calm.

“Uh…” Ryuu thinks. “A month and a half ago, maybe. It happened the day his suspension started.” He drags in a breath, finding it suddenly hard to look at his normally mild teacher. It’s easier to meet Coach Ukai’s brown eyes, darkened with grim understanding. “It was before you joined us, Ukai-san. When you came to us, it was maybe five weeks out.”

Ukai-san’s eyes suddenly widen and he flinches back, just barely. “He was reluctant to play, I remember. I remember asking if Nishinoya-kun was injured.” He pulls in a shaky breath. “W-was that…?”

“No!” Ryuu shouldn’t feel protective of his _coach,_ but he wants to get that shocked, guilty look off Ukai-san’s face. “No, no it wasn’t. That was just personal stuff. It’s okay, Ukai-san. You didn’t hurt him, I swear. He was all healed up by then.”

 _“Healed… up.”_ Takeda-sensei’s voice is still so, so soft. But his eyes aren’t like Ryuu’s ever seen them before.

“Yeah.” Ryuu can’t keep the bitterness out of his own voice. “Good thing he was suspended from club for a month. Woulda been awkward otherwise.” He looks down at the gym floor. “It was… uh,” he has to take a steadying breath, “it wasn’t pretty. He was bleeding. Swelled up some, too. Was real bad. Couldn’t walk. It uh. Took some doing to get him on his feet again.” He meets Ukai-san’s eyes, willing him to understand. “But you didn’t do anything to, like, uh, make it worse. If he hadn’t been fully healed, I wouldn’t have let him come back to practice, no matter what he said.” He lets his resolve show in his tone. “I _promise.”_

“Right,” Takeda-sensei breathes in and out once, softly. His black eyes are suddenly flint. “Right.” He nods and turns toward the door of the gym.

“Wait!” Ukai catches his elbow. “Where are you going?”

Takeda-sensei stops, but there’s a banked fire in every line of his posture. “I’m going to lose my job now. Please excuse me.”

Ryuu can only stand there, jaw slack, as Coach Ukai _barely_ whips his arms round in time to catch Take-chan in a hammerlock. It’s like flipping a switch: Takeda has suddenly become a whirlwind of motion, kicking and yelling and almost squirming out of the larger man’s grip. The slight teacher’s feet leave the floor completely as he struggles and screams, with a ferocity Ryuu’s never, ever seen in him before: “He _beat Nishinoya! He_ put those scars on him! Dammit, he _hurt him! He did that to Noya-kun!_ Let me _go!_ I’m going to _kill him_ and you can’t _stop me! Ukai Keishin, let go of me this instant!_ I’m going to _finish him!”_

Ryuu finally snaps out of his paralysis and comes around in front of them, courageously risking getting kicked in the groin by Take-chan’s flailing legs. “Sensei, sensei. Calm down. We handled it. It’s okay. Sensei, please! We need you! It’s not worth it!” He steps nearer, daring to crowd in close and grab his teacher’s arms from elbow to shoulder. “Hey. _Hey._ Takeda-sensei— just— calm down a minute, please…” He’s glad of Ukai-san’s restraining grip on Takeda – Ryuu knows he wouldn’t be able to hold the whirlwind back by himself. Damn, but for all Take-chan looks little and cute, it’s like wrestling a dragon to keep him contained. “Takeda-sensei, please don’t lose your job. We need you! We want you here!” He holds him tighter and hisses into his ear. “It’s being taken care of. I promise you that. I _promise,_ sensei. I promise.”

Something in Ryuu’s tone seems to filter through Take-chan’s fury. He pauses in his struggling, causing Ukai to let out a breath of relief. “You… promise?” he says doubtfully, probing.

“I _promise.”_ Ryuu shouldn’t be saying this to a teacher, but Take-chan was ready to throw away his career. Fucking _respect_. “He’s gonna pay for it.” He says it slowly, so there can be no doubt. “I promise you, sensei. I swear it.”

“Strictly in the sense of _bachi ga ataru,_ of course,” Ukai says from behind Takeda in a tone that brooks _no_ disagreement, “‘what goes around comes around’.”

Ryuu opens his mouth, then closes it. “Uh, sure. Of course,” he adds, more firmly.

“Because _nobody_ can _promise_ more than that,” Ukai adds. His eyes are boring into Ryuu’s, daring Ryuu to contradict him - out loud, at least. “No-one can predict the future. You understand me?”

Ryuu swallows. “Of course, Ukai-san.”

Ukai exhales and drops his arms, letting Take-chan go. “Damn,” he chuckles, “but you’re a firecracker, sensei.”

Take-chan inhales and exhales deeply, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I apologize,” he says to Ryuu, giving a shallow bow. “I lost control of myself, and you a student. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Ryuu steps back and bows deeply, from the waist. “I would expect nothing less from you, Takeda-sensei,” he says very formally, trying to let everything he feels show in his voice.

“I think you should go home now, Tanaka-kun,” Ukai-san cuts in. “Sorry if we placed too much of a load on your shoulders, but I think you’ll agree we had to know.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you did need to know,” Ryuu straightens and nods. “It’s fine…” He looks from one of them to the other. “I appreciate it.” He doesn’t say more, but… these are the only adults who _noticed,_ who _cared._ Ukai-kun was outraged, worried about Yuu. And Take-chan… The team would have walked through fire for him even before this, and now, Ryuu doesn’t know if there’s anything at all he wouldn’t do for their sensei. “It’s good to know you’ve got his back,” he confesses. “Like, uh… Both of you.” They deserve to know. Then he turns and flees the gym before anything else embarrassing can be said.

* * *

_Epilogue 2_

The next time Yuu’s the last to leave the equipment room, before he joins the guys outside the gym – Asahi and Ryuu and everyone are waiting for him, and even Ukai has gone out into the evening – Takeda-sensei steps toward him and before he can ask anything, the teacher puts his arms around Yuu and he finds himself wrapped in a big hug, right in the middle of the brightly-lit gym. Yuu blinks. “What?” It’s not that getting a hug from Takeda-sensei isn’t _nice,_ but—“Did someone die?”

Takeda-sensei just keeps hugging him. “Noya-kun, I’m sorry. I failed you. As a school, we failed you. I won’t ask you to forgive the unforgivable. I only ask you to believe that I would have done _anything_ to keep that from happening to you.”

Noya flinches, knowing there’s no way his teacher didn’t sense the flinch with his arms around him so tight. Then he slumps in defeat. “Tanaka-kun told you, huh,” he sighs. Is there anyone Ryuu _hasn’t_ told?

“Noya-kun…” Takeda-sensei’s arms tighten around Yuu, and it feels… nice. Warm. He feels cared for. “Please don’t ever think it’s your fault. Or that you did anything to deserve it. Or that—or that I would condone it. In my day, in schools…” Yuu feels a shudder go through his teacher’s body. “I… I’d hoped as a nation, we’d outgrown using our power to make young people suffer.”

There’s something about the shudder. Yuu pulls out of Takeda-sensei’s embrace, unease taking hold of him. “Aw, no. Please don’t tell me – I don’t mean to be disrespectful, sensei, but please don’t tell me that that kind of thing happened to _you!”_ Not Takeda-sensei, not their unfailingly sweet and caring teacher, please, no, not him!

Takeda-sensei lets out a soft huff, his eyes fluttering to half-mast. He shakes his head and looks down at the floor. “No, no.” Yuu doesn’t let him off the hook, staring at him in a way that he knows is impolite. After a moment Takeda exhales. “They made us stand in the corridor for hours holding heavy buckets of water. That was all.”

Yuu’s heart twists in a way he never thought it could. In a way, it hurts more than when he was whipped. “You never deserved that, sensei,” he says, and he can’t keep the snarl out of his voice, or help the way his chest seems to heat up. “That sounds painful.”

Takeda-sensei lets out a soft half-laugh. “Well. After a while, you, er, don’t feel it.” Then his face sobers. “I would never… condone… what you went through, Noya-kun. And if… if anything like that ever, ever happens again…” He shakes his head. “What am I saying? If someone says they’re going to so much as _touch_ you, come to me. Run, if necessary. I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure it doesn’t happen.”

“Thanks, sensei.” But Yuu can’t let it go. He can’t help the way he looks, angrier and more intense than he should look addressing a teacher. “Are _you_ okay, Take—” He barely bites off the “-chan” in time. He’s not Ryuu. “—sensei? Like…” He doesn’t want to ask outright if there was permanent damage, but maybe his teacher knows what he means. “Are you _okay?”_ he asks urgently.

Takeda-sensei gives him a smile, a touch too broad, and his eyes scrunch up in that cute way of his. “Oh, I’m fine, I’m perfectly fine, don’t worry about me! It’s _your_ well-being we need to take care of!”

Yuu’s been told that his stare can be intense and unnerving. He doesn’t care. He aims it at Takeda-sensei anyway.

Sure enough, Take-chan blushes. “It’s nothing,” he smiles. “Only this,” he holds out his left hand to Yuu, palm up, “nothing at all, see?”

Yuu’s reluctant to take his teacher’s hand in his: it seems too awkward. So he leans close, examining the proffered palm. Just below the pad beneath the base of the fingers, along what the crazy girls who like palm-reading call the heart line, is a white scar. Its thickness betrays the fact that it was deep, once. “Bucket handle,” Take-chan says, still with that cute smile, like he’s not confessing to being kept in stress positions that disfigured him. “That’s all. See? You don’t need to worry about me. You should just focus on getting better.”

Yuu opens his mouth to say he _is_ better, maybe to ask what Take-chan’s old school is so he can sic Ryuu on his old teachers, but instead he’s suddenly launching himself at his sensei in a tackle-hug. A little ‘oof’ is punched out of Takeda, but Yuu ignores everything, just wrapping his arms around Take-chan tight. “Thank you, sensei,” he says, his voice muffled by Takeda’s shirt. There’s so much he wants to say, but it’s too difficult, maybe impossible, to say it, so ‘thank you’ is all he can come up with.

Take-chan’s arms come up around Yuu. “It’s… only my duty,” he says lightly. “And by the way, don’t blame Tanaka-kun. Coach Ukai and I forced the information out of him.”

Yuu chuckles into Take-chan’s middle. “He’d make a lousy secret agent.”

“But,” Take-chan says, rubbing Yuu’s back, “he is a good friend. We’re all lucky to have him on our team.”

Yuu pulls away gently and grins at Take-chan. “We’re lucky to have you too, sensei.”

The way Take-chan flushes bright pink is absolutely fucking _cute_. Really, it’s probably disrespectful to be thinking that a teacher is like a chibi. He gives Takeda-chibi one last smile and jogs out of the gym, feeling inexplicably lighter.

* * *

_Epilogue 3_

**Japan Times**

**School Principal Attacked by Tokyo Gang**

Katashi Jirou, the principal of Miyagi Prefecture's Karasuno High School, sustained a broken arm as a result of an attack by suspected gang-members last Thursday night in Tokyo outside a bar.

The principal, who was visiting Tokyo for a conference, has stated he suspected the unidentified youths were gang members. He suffered no other injuries and nothing was stolen. Police are classifying the attack as a random act of violence.

Citizens with information related to the attack or the perpetrators are urged to come forward with information to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department on +81 3-3581-4321.


End file.
